


How it is done (Deeper than swords Remix)

by flightinflame



Series: home as a borderless metaphor [2]
Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Cultural Differences, Cultural Misunderstandings, Developing Friendships, Erik Lehnsherr Defense Squad, Erik is a Sweetheart, F/M, Friendship, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Misunderstandings, Multi, Polyamory, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:48:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 34,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25696057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flightinflame/pseuds/flightinflame
Summary: Jean Grey is the intelligent and talented ward of Charles of Westchester, and a skilled beta diplomat. She has grown up with Westchester's strict expectations, and is lucky to marry for love. But through a friendship with the wild royal consort, Erik of Genosha, she begins to wonder if she can shape her future, stepping outside of what is expected, and working with Scott to find space in their hearts and bed for another.
Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier, Jean Grey & Charles Xavier, Jean Grey & Erik Lehnsherr, Jean Grey/Logan (X-Men)/Scott Summers, Jean Grey/Scott Summers
Series: home as a borderless metaphor [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1868485
Comments: 132
Kudos: 101





	1. Charles - Father

**Author's Note:**

  * For [homosociality](https://archiveofourown.org/users/homosociality/gifts).
  * Inspired by [deeper than swords (the sun and stars remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25236280) by [specficslut (homosociality)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/homosociality/pseuds/specficslut). 



> Set around "Deeper than Swords", which focuses on Charles and Erik's relationship. Here, the focus is on Jean and Erik's friendship, and Jean, Scott and Logan's relationship. Whilst there is no on screen sexual assault, discussions of cultural misunderstandings which lead to perceived assault and its aftermath will appear in later chapters.
> 
> Betaed by the incredible InsertSthMeaningful

The first time Charles met the young Lady Grey, it was only a few months after his step-father's unfortunate hunting accident, which had been carried out with far more success than the one that had befallen him. She was a beta, small and with a soft fuzz of red hair at the top of her head, gazing out at the court with wide-eyed wonder.

Charles was technically too young to rule, not yet at his majority. That meant that it should have been his mother who ruled in his stead. Only as she was an omega and therefore unfit, and a drunkard besides, he was guided by one of his father's advisors. The alpha, Logan, was a skilled tactician, but not in the least bit concerned with the day to day running of the country. Officially, Logan ruled as regent.

In practicality, Charles was the one to make the decisions and keep the country on an even keel, to ignore the comments made about the crippled boy-king, and to get the nation of Westchester to a day that he would be allowed to rule in his own right. Logan was normally off leading the army, or managing to cause his own kind of chaos, and Charles handled the everyday management of the nation.

He was fourteen when he first met the Lady Grey, and he nodded and blessed her and wished her all the best, congratulated her parents on a healthy beta daughter, and generally went through all the motions expected when a courtier's omega gave birth. A beta was viewed as unsuitable for the army, although there was a platoon of beta guards in the Royal household, for the protection of any omegan children or brides of the Royal family. He knew even then that her future probably lay in diplomacy, and watching her bright eyes scan the room as she gurgled to herself, her mind sparking with thought and warmth, he knew that she would do well.

***

After that, he barely saw the little girl, until a few weeks after her fifth birthday, when her father approached him as he walked down the corridor, forgoing all protocol and walking to him directly. Charles could feel the sheer frantic concern in the man's mind, and that meant he forgave the rudeness, allowing him to speak what was on his mind.

"What is wrong, Lord Grey?"

"I beg your pardon, your Highness. I am sorry to disturb you but... it's my daughter."

"What about her?" 

"She has a gift."

"The birth of a gifted child is a cause of celebration, not despair," Charles answered, but he could tell there was more to the man's fear than simple prejudice against the gifted.

"Your Highness, I believe she can hear thoughts. She is in pain, constantly, and the only comfort we have found for her is to isolate her from all others, even ourselves. When we enter the room, even to bring her food, she is in pain. She is afraid of us. I... I beg your Highness, please, help her. You are the only one I know of who shares her gift, and if there is anything at all you could do to spare her pain, I ask of it. I would gladly sacrifice all I own for my daughter's peace."

Charles reached out, raking through the man's thoughts, feeling his fear and his love for his daughter. There were countless individuals in the court that would use their child's gift to try and curry favour with him. But in Lord Grey's mind there was only terror for his child.

"I will do what I can." Charles promised. "I will come to your chambers this evening, to meet the girl, and do what I can to aid her."

"Thank you, your highness," Lord Grey answered. Charles could sense his sheer joy at the fact his daughter had a chance at being freed from pain.

That evening, he went to the chambers the Grey family were currently occupying, knocking on the door of the room little Jean was sheltering in, and then reaching out to her telepathically. _I am here to help. Your father tells me you are hearing thoughts?_

 _They're loud._ She pushed back, her mental voice shaking. _Make them stop._

Charles wrapped his thoughts around her own, giving her a respite from the world. _I can teach you to shield yourself._

_You can stop it hurting?_

_I can._

_Thank you._ The door to the room swung open, and he saw the little girl perched on a trunk, swinging her legs, her doll clutched to her chest. He smiled to try and reassure her. "I'm going to get your father to join us, so that he can hear what will help you, is that alright?"

Jean nodded, her red hair bouncing, and Charles beamed at her. He was glad he could help the little girl.

***

Jean became a beautiful young beta, intelligent and friendly, with a quick mind and a cheerful smile. Charles still felt too young for children, but he hoped that one day, when he had a child, they were like her.

Jean was a wonderful little girl, skilled with her abilities and stunningly kind. She was ten years old, Charles newly free of the need for a regent, when her mother fell sick. Her father nursed her mother, caught the infection from her, and they both lost their battle on the same night, leaving Jean an orphan and the only child of the Grey line. It would have been easy for Charles to send her away, or even to take back her title and bestow it on another.

Instead, he chose to take the child for his own. She became his ward, his companion. He doted upon her, ensuring she was well cared for, that she had the finest tutors and governesses, that she was brought up fluent in a dozen languages and knowing all the different rules and customs of each culture they might encounter. 

She wasn't eligible to be his heir, as she was not of his blood. But she would have a full and satisfying life, one that any beta child would only dream of. He knew there were those among his court who believed a beta to be incapable of fighting, but he ensured she was well taught by Raven, so she would be able to defend herself. 

As she grew into a young woman, she would often be found sparring with some of the soldiers, and it was there that she first met Captain Summers, the man who would become her husband.

At the time, of course, Charles thought little of it. He was used to Jean enthusing about her training and her education, every time they ate a meal together. Charles tried to ensure they would dine together at least once a week. As Jean was his daughter in all but name, he never used his telepathy on her. Later, he would reason that that was why he didn't register her fondness for the Captain growing into more for quite some time.

Charles had considered using Jean as a pawn in a marriage that would be advantageous to Westchester. He wouldn't have hesitated to do so had it been necessary, the happiness of his nation mattering more than the comfort of his almost-daughter. But as she was only his ward, and a skilled diplomat, he found that she was of more use in his castle than elsewhere.

That didn't provide much comfort when he learned of her fondness of Captain Summers. He was sure she could do better, that the man could not make his beautiful fiery daughter happy.

"I love him, Charles." Jean said, her arms crossed in front of her chest, chin jutted forwards. Charles frowned up at her and sighed.

"Jean, I know you like him, but he's ... he's just a Captain. You could marry a Prince, or stay here and advise, or-"

"I love him." Jean repeated it firmly, arguing with all the confidence and strength Charles had ever tried to bestow on her. "He's kind, and he's good. He's the strongest person I know and the best. At least talk with him, Charles, please." Her face twisted into a slight sneer, a sign of the awkward teenager that Charles thought she had outgrown being. "My Lord, talk to him."

"Jean, he'll bore you," Charles tried to reason, even if he could tell she was going to be stubborn about this. "You deserve someone who can keep up with your brilliant mind."

"I need a partner, Charles." Her anger fell away, and when she looked at him it was with hope. "The two of us... you have been the kindest father to me. But the two of us, left alone... we need someone to reason with us. Someone who will speak the truth when we're lost in our fantasies, someone who will make us see sense. Someone who cares. And... I truly believe that for me, Scott can be that person."

He looked at her, and saw not the little girl he'd found and cared for, but a young woman who could be just as determined as he was. A woman who was asking him for permission, but wouldn't hesitate to act on her own if it became necessary. There were ways she could force his hand - as a beta she could spend time alone with alphas, but if there was a hint of impropriety he would have to rush through a marriage before her reputation was forever ruined. Her asking was a courtesy, but she wasn't going to listen if he said no.

"I'll speak with him," Charles conceded. If Jean had been a princess, he would have had to refuse. But she wasn't one, not really. If she wanted this, he wouldn't stand in her way. 

She smiled and stepped forwards to embrace him, hugging him tightly, and he hugged her back, gazing at her.

After a moment, he cleared his throat. "But it still isn't fitting for you to marry someone so far beneath you."

"Promote him then." She grinned, and practically skipped from the room, and Charles paused for a moment and sighed. And then he sent for Logan.

Logan had been one of his key advisers, the only general since his father's reign. The man had a reputation for sleeping around with anyone he could find, but he was a good judge of character, one of the best Charles had ever met.

"What is it?" Logan asked, looking at him curiously, clearly startled to have been summoned at such a late hour.

"I wish to hear your opinion on Captain Summers." Charles stated, reaching out with his telepathy to see the emotions Logan wouldn't put into words.

"He's a good soldier. Smart, quick. Can be a bit too... goody-goody." Logan snorted. "He's stubborn as a mule, he's honest, and he works damn hard. One of the best captains we've got." Unspoken went Logan's own frustration with the soldier, and other things Charles was careful not to examine too closely. Under his father's rule, two alphas being caught together in an intimacy could mean death. That law had been struck down, but it was still unspoken of. For Logan it appeared to be lust rather than anything more, and Logan's appetites were - if not pardoned by his feral nature and military surroundings, at least explained by them.

Anyway, there was no hint in Logan's mind that Scott reciprocated - if anything he seemed frustrated with Logan, always picking fights with him.

"Jean loves him," Charles spoke softly, watching Logan's expression. "I need to know if I would be making a mistake allowing her to pursue it."

"No," Logan said after a moment's consideration. "My lord, I do not think that would be a mistake."

"And to promote him?"

"He's a damn good leader. I'd want him to have my back in a fight." Logan shrugged. "He's kinda an asshole otherwise. But he'll tell you the truth, even if you don't wanna hear it, and he'll do what he thinks is right even if it kills him, stubborn fucker."

Charles allowed a fond smile to linger on his lips, and nodded. "Thank you for your advice, Logan, that was all I wanted to know."


	2. Jean - Husband

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for a few mentions of consent issues in this chapter born of cultural misunderstandings - Jean is trying to comfort Erik, but doesn't understand why he is upset. No harm is meant, although Jean fails to reassure Erik as much as she wants to.
> 
> Thank you again to InsertSthMeaningful for betaing and specficslut for writing the original and being so encouraging.

Jean could scarcely believe it when Charles gave his approval to her betrothal. He told her first, before summoning Scott into the room, and she did what she could to keep her face expressionless even though her heart was soaring with joy.

"Captain Summers," Charles began, leaning forwards in his chair, every bit the grand king that he was viewed as. "My ward tells me that you have feelings for her."

"I do, your Majesty."

"And are they reciprocated?" Charles asked, and Jean could see the concern on Scott's face, the way he glanced at her, trying to work out what answer to give. She kept her face impenetrably blank.

"I can assure you that nothing improper has happened between us. I could not say I know the Lady's innermost thoughts, as I lack your gift. But I assure you, I would not threaten her honour, or do her harm." Scott's chin was up as he spoke, and even without using her telepathy she could tell he was afraid. But he was doing what he felt was right - even with his spectacles hiding much of his face, she could tell that.

"She wishes to marry you," Charles continued. "What say you to that?"

"I would take the best care of her that I were able. I should love her with all of my soul," Scott answered, arms straight at his sides. "I should love her in whatever form I am able, and should care for her with all I am."

"What you are, Captain Summers-" a faint smirk rested against Charles's lips now- "is promoted. I can't have my ward marrying a mere Captain."

It took a moment for the message to filter through Scott's fear, and then he turned to her, and his face lit up with a luminous smile, and Jean found herself rushing to him, embracing him softly. Loving Scott was easy. He was kind, and good, and loyal, and strong, and his arms fitted around her so perfectly.

"Thank you, my lord," Jean's voice was little more than a whisper, as she gazed up at Scott, and he took her hands in his own, pressing gentle kisses to the back of them.

Her wedding night was not as bad as she had feared it would be. Scott was as gentle as he could be, a considerate if not particularly skilled lover. He held her close, soothing her and brushing away her tears, promising her he would never hurt her again. He kissed her as they remained tied together, gentle, careful to keep his weight from crushing her, and it hurt but his voice soothed her, and his fingers stroked her hair, and she knew this was the man she wanted to spend her life with.

After that first night, and their marriage, he proved himself endlessly tender, endlessly loyal, and endlessly loving. He would bring back presents, and it would have felt cloying if not for the sheer sincerity with which he picked out a cloak or a book for her. He didn't know all the intricacies of the court that Jean's entire life had been submerged in, but he learned them because it mattered to her. 

Scott was never one of those alphas that felt betas were helpless. He encouraged her to fight, and to train with her skills - Charles had always encouraged her telepathy, but he taught her to make full use of her telekinesis. He never looked down on her, and he gave his answers honestly. At night, she lay beneath him, letting him fill her, and smiled. She'd heard of passion feeling like a forest fire, and she longed for it, sometimes caught her gaze wandering to Logan and dreaming. Scott wasn't a forest fire. He was a warm hearth, with strong arms around your waist and a kind voice in your ear.

Jean was happy. As she watched her stepfather prepare for his own wedding, and as she handled the negotiations, as she switched between Genoshan and Westchesterian every sentence, she realised how lucky she was. Every evening, after a day spent listening to the demands of the barbarian Shaw and trying to reach a compromise, Scott would be there. He would wrap his arms around her, rub away the tension from her shoulders, ease away her tunic and cover her in gentle kisses. 

"How is it going?" Scott asked that night when they were in their bed, curled up against her, his arm resting on the curve of her waist and his hand splayed out over her heart. "The King lets it be known your help is invaluable... my marvellous wife."

She smiled to herself, leaning back against him, tilting her head up for a kiss. "I'm glad. I think we will be done soon, and that...that will be good. I'll sleep easier when I know their prince is safe."

"He'll be safe because of you," Scott said, and he said it with such certainty that she found she had to believe his words, drifting off to sleep in the sincerity of his embrace.

Jean let herself focus on Scott's words as she handled the final elements of the negotiations, Shaw returning home to collect the prince, and in doing so seal the nation's alliance. She could tell that Charles was nervous - she didn't need to use her telepathy to recognise his fears. 

"You'll take good care of him, your majesty. From Shaw's thoughts, he is a handsome man, and I will do all I can to reassure him that he is safe here." She squeezed her guardian's hand. "Perhaps soon you will have a real child, and won't have to worry so much about me."

"I'll always worry about you, Jean." Charles promised, pressing a kiss to her red hair and embracing her. "I hope I will soon have an heir, but you will always be dear to me. Don't doubt that for a moment." He smiled at her. "Have you and Scott thought of your own children?"

"One day," Jean answered quickly. She had no desire to abandon her work for the court, and while she adored Scott she knew that they weren't yet ready for a child.

"When you are ready," Charles agreed, and smiled, and for a moment he seemed less afraid. She nodded, thinking of a little child that was part her and part Scott. She didn't like the idea of being vulnerable, of being pregnant and unable to perform her courtly duties. But her love of Scott was enough that she knew one day she'd stop taking the herbs that Hank had gifted her, and have a son or daughter of her own.

That night, she returned to the chambers she shared with Scott, and they made love. He kissed her tenderly, his fingers stroking across her skin, and she gazed up at him, her fingers clutching his shoulders, urging him onward. He was gentle though, careful, and he embraced her and kissed her after he found his release.

She laid awake in his arms, and worried for the young man she would soon meet.

Her Genoshan tutor had died two winters ago, and whilst there were a few in the court who could fumble their way through a few sentences if their life were to depend on it, none other than her would be able to converse with the new royal consort. That meant it would fall on her to befriend him, and to teach him the language he would need to survive in his new nation. 

She had hoped that the man's introduction to the court would go smoothly. A feast had been provided, and she'd helped pick out food that might be familiar to the king's betrothed. She was hoping to sit beside him, to translate and reassure and show him that things here were civilised and safe.

Her wish was not granted - Shaw humiliated the omega, dragging him in naked, exposing scarred skin screaming past abuse. She heard Charles snarl in anger, but her gaze was on the man who had been brought here. She caught his question, and nearly whimpered in shock to know the abuse the poor man had accepted as his lot. Scott would never harm anyone. He'd die before he hurt the king's omega, but that wasn't all - she loved her husband, knew he'd never force himself on anyone.

If Shaw was the barbarism of the Genoshans personified, a vile man with vile thoughts, then Erik was their wild innocence. He stood there naked and unafraid, gazing up at them even if he tried to hide it. Her heart ached for him. He was beautiful, and had he not been rescued by this marriage, his future would have been that of some monster like Shaw's broodmare, publicly humiliated and left with a litter of children from different alphas. She longed to sweep him into her arms, press gentle kisses to his forehead, and promise him he was safe now.

It was Logan who acted first, furious, wrapping the man in his cloak, offering him some comfort, and she could see the way he pressed his face into the cloth, confusion written on his face, frozen like a deer. Charles was ready to tear Shaw apart, but he signalled for Jean to rescue his husband-to-be, and she did so gladly. She moved to his side and smiled, averting her eyes from the skin still exposed despite the cloak.

"Come with me," she instructed, leading him to safety as he followed close behind. It was a short distance to the King's private chambers, and she relaxed as she moved the poor man away from that barbarian. If it hadn't been for the doctors' word, she would have feared that monster had taken further liberties with the prince who followed her so quietly. 

"I am Jean, the King's ward,” she introduced herself with a smile.

"Erik," he whispered, curling up closer in his cloak, and there was such pain in his eyes that she longed to embrace him. But it wouldn't be fitting, even as a beta, for her to do that.

"It's lovely to meet you, Erik,” she reassured him, before trying to focus on the practicalities of caring for him. "Are you hungry?"

"Yes,” Erik answered, and he sounded desperate, and she shuddered at the thought of the poor man being starved. He was only a year or two older than her, and he'd been treated so cruelly. His family dead, his honour bartered away - she longed to comfort him, but there was little she could do to help.

"I'll have the servants bring up something. I’m sorry about the feast,” she admitted. It should have been a celebration of the upcoming marriage, and Shaw had ruined that. Ruined Erik's reputation. She showed him into the king's chambers, seeing him fidgeting with the power inhibitor at his neck, and didn’t comment - she understood why it was necessary, but she knew it would be hard, and she didn't want to upset him by focusing on it.

He looked around the room, clearly unsure about it - she knew that the Genoshan horde didn't use permanent buildings. The castle would be new to him. He examined a book for a moment, and she took his distraction as a chance to try and sort out other things. She requested a tray of food from the guards, before fetching him some clothes - they belonged to the king, but they would allow him at least the decency of being dressed. She knew Charles would give Erik his own finery soon.

Erik was still clutching Logan's cloak for comfort, and it hurt her heart to know the brutality he expected. 

She went to the door when the guard knocked, taking the tray of fruit and bread, smiling as Erik picked at the food.

"You speak Genoshan?" he asked, clearly struggling with the orange. Jean smiled indulgently, taking one of her own, carefully demonstrating how to prepare it as she explained her own role in the negotiations between Westchester and Genosha -handling the translation for Charles and Lord Shaw.

"You're very good at it," he told her, and he was smiling then, the fear from earlier receding a few heartbeats. "Charles?"

"The King's name," she admitted, aware she was being impertinent. "I beg your pardon, I'm used to a certain familiarity with him. He all but raised me after my parents died.”

The prince nodded, putting his food aside and mouthing Charles's name to himself. She felt pained that he hadn't even been given that knowledge. "Where is this?" he asked, looking around the room.

She frowned a little, biting her lip. "Charles's bedchambers," she said carefully, wondering how he could have missed that fact. "Charles will come meet you here after he's... dealt with Lord Shaw." She only just held herself back from spitting that monster's title.

"I won't be returning to the feast?" Erik asked, and she could see the fear in his eyes. She longed even more now to embrace him.

“If you want to eat anything else, I can get it for you,” she promised, even though she feared that wasn't his question. “This is just what the kitchen had available on short notice.”

“Not for food,” Erik clarified, and his voice was shaking. “To be claimed.”

"No." Jean felt her face flush, anger building within her at the brutality that Erik accepted as his due. She wanted to march back into the Feasting Hall and tear Lord Shaw apart with her telekinesis. But she didn't. If she had been an alpha, then she might have done so, but she was a beta and she knew her place was to care for Erik, to help him understand that no one in this court meant him harm. She tried to sound more gentle as she explained to him. "Charles will claim you in private, in here. There won’t be any… you won’t have to… deal with anyone else.” She could barely bring herself to say it, sickened at the thought. At the idea of her loving Scott forcing someone - or Raven, who was so happily married with Lady Irene, and who doted on her newborn son and adopted daughter, or Storm who was so fierce to protect those in need, or even Logan who for all his flirting would never lay a hand where it wasn't asked for. That Erik could have expected that made her feel sick.

Erik looked so afraid, and she could see him trembling, even if he was trying not to show it. "There will be no one but us?" He whispered, eyes wide as though he couldn't comprehend what he was being told.

"No one," Jean reassured, her heart aching for him. She wanted him to know that this would be safe, sacred. She tried to smile, thinking through the only thing that would impose on his privacy. "Tomorrow, we will check the sheets, to make sure that the King, ah, found his release, and you bled.”

She saw the fear rise more in his eyes then, as he tried to calm himself, and she longed to comfort him, reassuring herself that Charles would never hurt an omega, especially not the one before her. His breathing was too fast, and her heart ached for him. She understood - she'd been afraid, her own wedding night, and she'd known Scott before then. "It's not so bad. You'll be alright."

She heard the king approach, and looked up, assessing Charles's expression, seeing the anger in his eyes as he spoke.

"That monster... I think I've managed to persuade the court not to hold his actions against Erik. How is he?"

"Nervous."

"I'll be gentle with him," Charles promised her, and she nodded.

"Good. He... he expected to be... Shaw had filled his head with lies." Jean swallowed dryly. "I've tried to explain."

"Thank you, Jean. I want... I want to look after him now. Show him he's safe here."

"Thank you," She answered, before switching to Genoshan. “I’ll leave you now. Do not worry too much, all right? You will be fine.” She smiled at the two of them, then hurried back to her chambers. 

Scott was there, deep in discussion with Logan, but the moment he saw her he opened his arms, letting her run to him. She buried her face against his neck, shivering as he rubbed her back.

"You okay, Jeanie?" Logan asked, and she heard him unsheathing a claw. "If that Genoshan did anythin'-"

"He's...he's fine." She whispered, fighting back tears. "He didn't hurt me. He's just... he's been hurt so badly."

"He's safe now." Scott promised, pressing a kiss to her hair.

"Yeah, he is. That bastard Shaw tries to hurt him again, I don't think the king's gonna hold me back." Logan muttered, before bidding them goodnight. Scott let her cling to him.

She reached out for Logan's mind. _Thank you for giving him that cloak. I think it helped him._ She pulled away after that thought, relaxing into Scott's embrace. Tomorrow, Charles would be wed, and the prince's safety would be assured. She focused on that, not on the pain which had come before.


	3. Jean - Charge

Charles’s wedding ceremony was beautiful. More grand even than Jean’s own had been, with Erik newly dressed in soft silks and sandals, clinging to Charles throughout, and she was glad for that, that he had found comfort in Charles’s arms so easily. She knew that Charles would be kind to him, but it was good, to see the two of them fitting together naturally. Scott stood close to her at the wedding, an arm around her waist, and she leaned against him, glancing over at little Anna Marie, who was wearing a blue dress to match her mother and baby brother. Little Kurt squirmed in Irene’s arms, clearly bored by the ceremony, but he was the only one present who didn’t appreciate it. It was the end of a violent war, a sign of hope, and perhaps the kingdom’s new heir had already been conceived. She smiled over at Erik, but he was too lost in Charles’s embrace to see her standing there.

She left the newly wed couple alone to enjoy each other’s company for a couple of days, spending time with Scott - soon one or other of them would have to leave for diplomacy or war, but they made the most of the time they had together. They walked around the castle arm in arm, spent their nights making love and talking of the future, and she even coaxed him to the chessboard - Scott didn’t always play, but he had a natural affinity for the game that even Charles would have admired. It was his tactician's mind, she supposed. At times, she missed using her telepathy on him - his mind was beautiful, organised and clear, with so much strength born of hardship. But if the loss of that mind meant the gain of him being beside her, then she was happy for the sacrifice.

Scott and Logan took her out riding one day, and they shared a picnic on a blanket, temporarily free from the constraints of the court. She smiled at the two of them, laughing as Logan used his claws to cut up the joint of meat he had brought. He handed her the best portion with a wink, and she looked at him demurely, trying to ignore thoughts of affection brimming from him and matched with her own. She loved Scott, more than anything. The fact that in another world, she could have found happiness in Logan’s arms wasn’t something to linger on. Within a few moments, Scott and Logan had started debating tactics in future conflict with the Isle of the Sky, and she pushed those thoughts away, reminding both of them that her role as a diplomat lay in preventing the conflicts they seemed so eager to fight.

On the third day after the wedding, she made her way to Charles’s chambers, knocking politely before letting herself in - she hadn’t bothered knocking before, but she didn’t want to encounter anything that was inappropriate to see. There was silence for a moment, and she glanced at the guard.

“The royal consort is within, but the king has left,” the guard supplied, and she nodded and opened the door.

She found Erik curled up on the bed, his back to the door, under a blanket. As she approached, he sat up and the blanket slid down. She averted her eyes quickly, clearing her throat, and he got out from the bed and grabbed some clothing. She looked at him fondly when she realised he had struggled with the buttons, walking over and carefully fastening them into place.

“There you go,” she addressed him. “It’s good to see you. I’m sorry I haven’t visited the last couple of days, I wanted to give you some time to settle in. I hope Charles has treated you well.”

“He’s been good to me,” Erik answered, glancing down towards the floor. 

She smiled and nodded, sure that Charles would have done so. “I wondered if you’d like me to teach you some Westchesterian?” she offered. “I might have to leave soon, but-”

“I’d like to look around the castle. If I can,” Erik said quickly, and she smiled at him.

“Of course. I’ll show you, just let me send for some of your guards, and we can go on an adventure.”

“Guards?” The omega asked, nervous.

“Betas,” she promised him, understanding if Erik was nervous around strange alphas. “Alex and Armando, I’m sure you’ve met them before, and I can promise you they are lovely - Alex is Scott’s brother, I’ve known him for years.”

Erik nodded, and she grinned, going to ask the men guarding the door to fetch the consort’s personal escort. It didn’t take long for them to arrive, and she led their small party through the castle, conversing away in Genoshan about anything she could think of, asking Erik about the foods he liked and what he thought of the castle.

“This is the Great Hall,” she explained to him. “It’s used for all the major ceremonies, and for the Curia Regis - the king’s council - to meet. It’s also near the kitchens, which is useful for feasts. The kitchens are down here, in case of fire, but that shouldn’t be a problem now - one of the kitchen boys, Bobby, is gifted in control of ice - the sculptures at our feasts are made by him.” She led him through to the kitchen, delighted to see that Bobby was currently working there. “Now, any food you want, you can ask the soldiers at your door to fetch, or get your guards to bring you here so you can try things yourself. We can try my favourite today.” She switched to Westchesterian.

“Bobby, could you make us both some fruit-ice?”

Bobby nodded, winking at her. “Coming right up. Your sweet tooth is infamous, Lady Grey.”

She beamed, watching the skill with which he chopped berries before he froze them, placing the mixture into bowls, adding a sprinkling of sugar and garnishing it with leaves of mint. He handed it over with two metal spoons.

“Thank you,” she said to Bobby, before turning to Erik. “Careful, it’s cold.”

Erik frowned, still struggling a little with Westchesterian cutlery, but he got some of the mixture onto a spoon and tried it. She held her breath, and he smiled at her after a moment, eating another spoonful, even though he frowned a little, his fingers brushing the spoon.

“I know, it’s cold, but it’s delicious…” She encouraged him. “You can come here, and Bobby is always happy to demonstrate his powers.”

The two of them ate quietly, before continuing their tour. She tried to work out the locations the king’s consort would need to know. Taking him to see the rooms set aside for the wet-nurse and the royal nursery felt a little premature, and although she loved the library it would be of little use until he had mastered the language. But she showed him her favourite tower, a window that looked over a courtyard, a room full of tapestries she’d discovered as a child, a passageway from the smaller hall used in the day to day running of the court and the servants quarters. 

He was tiring, and she knew that she would have to let him return to the king’s chambers soon, but she grinned. “One more place, okay? Then you can go and rest.”

He nodded to her, following her up another spiral staircase, to a parapet walk that looked out over the training grounds. “You can’t come up here alone, it isn’t safe,” she told him gently, before leaning against the stone. Below them, the men were training - and she could easily pick out Scott and Logan moving through the crowd, their armour glinting. “That’s Scott, there, with the red at the waist. And that’s Logan, the man who gave you his cloak,” she explained. 

For a while, the two of them stood in silence, watching, until she guided him back from the wall and led him down again to the King’s chambers, pointing out her own on the way. “This is mine - if you ever have an emergency, you can always come and get me if I’m in court, and if not, Scott or any of the King’s advisors will help you.” She frowned a little. “You must stay away from Prince Cain though, he… Just avoid him, if you can.” She didn’t want to frighten him, but the man was a brute and a drunkard, and likely to pose a threat to any child of the king. “But him aside, everyone here is here to help you.”

Erik nodded, still quiet, seeming lost in his own thoughts. She squeezed his hand and led him the final distance to his rooms, wanting to embrace him but knowing it wouldn’t be proper. “I might have to leave soon,” she admitted. “But if I do, I’ll tell you before I go.”

Erik nodded again, and for once spoke. “Thank you.”

“That’s alright. It’s been fun. And remember, Bobby is always happy to make those fruit-ices if you want one.” She waved, and then left him in peace, going to catch up on communications before she went to track down the king.

***

A couple of days after their exploration of the castle, Charles called Jean to him, explaining that the latest news from his spies wasn’t looking good, and that it was likely a war was coming. He set out the situation, and she felt a cold weight settle in her stomach, not sure even she would be able to pull the fighting back from the brink.

“Well, Jean?”

Jean looked up at Charles and began carefully reciting his instructions. She understood why he was asking her to go - war with the Isle of the Sky was potentially costly, and if anyone was going to be able to calm the threatening tensions before they flared into all-out conflict, it was her. The fact she was the only one able to translate for the king’s new consort came second to the needs of her nation. She nodded smartly at the man she regarded almost as a father.

“May I say goodbye to Erik before I leave? I don’t want him to feel abandoned.”

“I think that would be a good idea,” Charles answered. “He really is quite fond of you, I think.”

“Thank you, my Lord,” Jean answered, embracing him for a moment. “Well, I will explain to him that I am going, and wish him all the best…”

“I’ll tell you if there is any news,” Charles promised, and she felt her heart soar. Announcement of pregnancy couldn’t be made until the bump became obvious, to do otherwise was regarded as a potential bad omen. But Charles would tell her, and Raven, and they would keep the news to themselves until the announcement was made officially.

“Thank you,” she smiled, going to pack her trunk for the journey, ensuring she included her writing box. Scott had purchased it for her, and she adored it, the feel of the enamel and wood beneath her fingertips, the smoothness of it, the weight. Inside, there were a handful of dip pens and some inks, and some folded sheets of parchment in case she was unable to source any at the location that she found herself.

Jean was an ardent letter writer, always had been. When she was away on diplomatic work, she would keep up exchanges with Scott, with Charles, with various friends and the network of beta informants she had cultivated amongst the servants of the court. It made her heart ache that she would have to leave Erik without anyone who spoke his language, and without even the promise of correspondence. Although she had a rough grasp of the brutal angular letters used by the Genoshans, designed for carving, not for calligraphy, she realised there was no chance Erik would have learned to write. Some of the older members of the court had been born at a time before Westchester invested in the education of omegas, believing them to be unteachable. Given the Genoshan attitude, any writing would be lost to him.

She put such thoughts aside. Erik deserved a positive farewell, and reassurance that she would return as soon as she was able, rather than any reason to worry or feel ignorant. She made her way to the king’s chamber, knocking on the door before she waved it open.

Thankfully, today Erik was dressed, but he was lying on the bed and staring up at the ceiling. He frowned, until he saw that it was Jean there, at which point his entire face lit up. He moved to sitting.

“Jean, it is good to see you.”

“It is good to see you as well. I’m sorry I didn’t visit before, I’ve been busy. Would you like to go for another walk?”

Erik nodded quickly, fumbling the buttons of his shirt, and making his way over to her. She had his escort fetched, then led him up to the parapet, walking along the walkway there and breathing the fresh air, thinking it would probably be good for him.

“I am afraid I’ll have to leave for a while,” she told him as they stopped overlooking the courtyard. “There is potential conflict with the Isle of the Sky, and I need to do what I can to avert it.” She shuddered slightly, her mind filling with thoughts of what averting war might mean to Erik, who had been bartered away so easily and with expectations of such pain. She cleared her throat and continued. “I hope to organise free passage of Westchesterian ships, because we need access to the trade route, but that’s just the start. It might take me away for some weeks, maybe more.”

Erik looked at her in shock, and she could see the pain in his eyes. “But you can speak to me-”

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m going to leave instructions with some of the servants to check that you are well, they will write to me if there is anything concerning them. And I shall return when I am able.”

Erik hesitated, and she could see him opening his mouth as though about to speak, before he closed it again, shaking his head, and gazing angrily down at the soldiers below.

She reached out, slipping her hand into his and squeezing gently. “I will come back, Erik. I’m sorry, I hate to leave you like this, but I need to do what I can.”

“I understand,” he answered softly, his voice hollow, and he leaned against her. She wrapped his arms around him, rubbing her hands up and down his arms, and the two of them stood quietly. 

“Let’s see if the kitchens will make us some snacks?” Jean suggested, guiding him away from the view over the courtyard, and towards the stairs. “I ride out first thing tomorrow morning,” she told him, giving his hand one final squeeze.

“I didn’t think you’d leave,” he mumbled, and her heart ached for him.

“I will be back as soon as I am able, and Charles will take good care of you. He is treating you well?”

Erik nodded quietly. “It just isn’t what I expected.”

“I know, but I promise you he’s a good man. I think Bobby’s in the kitchen today, do you want to see?” She felt a little like she was offering a child a candy to distract them, but it seemed to work, Erik following her to the kitchen.

“I’ll buy you a present when I am away,” she promised. “A cloak maybe, or some jewellery, what would you like?”

“A dagger?” Erik joked, before shaking his head and glancing at the floor. “Whatever you think is appropriate.”

“I’ll get you something nice,” she promised him, and after they had eaten their fill of sweetmeats and fruit-ice, she walked him back to his chamber, embracing him one final time before she left. 

She asked a handful of her most loyal servants to keep an eye on Erik while she was away, and then went to spend her evening with Scott, knowing she might not be able to be close to him for two or three months. He held her close, and helped her to forget all of her concerns. At sunrise the next day she rode off with a small entourage, Scott waving her off, a final kiss lingering on her lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone for their support so far, and to homosociality for letting me play in this sandpit! Please do comment if you're enjoying this so far.


	4. Jean - Summoner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for mention of an attempted assault within this chapter - this is set afterwards. There is some internalised victim blaming, but no one else is blaming them and there is much in the way of cuddles and reassurance.

Negotiations with the Isle of the Sky were a long and complex process, Jean having to be endlessly careful to neither concede nor demand too much, knowing that a single misstep could be sufficient to plunge her homeland into war. Thanks to the marriage to Erik, Westchester would not have to stand alone, and Genosha’s soldiers would bolster their ranks if necessary. But she still sought, with all she had, to prevent the loss of lives.

She would spend hours each day in intricate conversations, a careful dance of pleasantries as beneath the surface alliances were forged and insults tallied. It was exhausting.

Every evening, she took an hour to herself before she went to bed in which she indulged in her correspondence. It was the highlight of her day, news from home, and there were certain letters that she sought out with particular eagerness. There were Charles’s long and rambling essays, filling sheets of parchment with all the details of court and updates on how Erik was settling in. Whenever she saw a letter headed “My dearest daughter” she smiled to herself, and would curl up in a shawl to read it. Charles would talk to her of everything, and she was glad to learn of it.

There were letters from her informants, confirming what she had said, reassuring her that Erik was being well cared for and that Scott was uninjured. And then there were the passages from Scott himself. Never particularly long or detailed, but beautiful in their own way, because of the way she could hear his voice as she read them.

_My Darling Wife, Things are progressing well here. Lady Munroe has found herself a barn cat, which seems to be spending its time following her around the court and curling up on her robes. Yesterday Raven informed us all with some delight that her son can now say ‘Mama’. The new batch of soldiers are appalling. Logan and I will try to get them into shape, but I hope they won’t be needed.  
With all my heart.  
Scott._

_My dearest daughter, It was so good of you to write. I worry for Erik, he seems to be frustrated, but I cannot work out what to do to entertain him. He seems uninterested in all the pursuits I have offered, but he is devoting himself to the study of our language as you suggested. Do you think you could recommend some methods of teaching? As for court…_

_My Darling Wife,  
I have quite the adventure to tell you of today. I spoke in the last letter of Lady Munroe’s cat? It is an absolute beast of a creature, and despises everyone but the lady herself. Well, today me, Logan, Raven and Ororo were discussing grain shipments. Lady Irene was busy with Anne Marie, and so Raven had brought Kurt along. Well, the little boy tried to grab the cat’s tail. He was only playing, and meant no harm - you know he is a sweet tempered child. But the cat didn’t see it that way. He lunged at the infant, all claws and teeth, and the Lady Raven rushed over to try and save her son from being savaged._

_The thing is, apparently Kurt can teleport._

_He ended up on my lap, gurgling to himself and laughing, and now Raven has to try and deal with an infant child who continues to get lost within the castle. Lady Irene’s foresight is at least of some use, but we are running a wager for how long it will be until he gets himself hopelessly lost and we have to set the entire guard to locating him.  
With all my heart, always,   
Scott_

_P.S. Ororo says she hopes you liked the story, but that I need to inform you that the cat is a queen, not a tom. It certainly acts like a queen._

_My dear daughter…_   
Jean stared at that opening, her heart racing. As days had turned to weeks in the Isle of the Sky, she had wondered when this news would come. It was inappropriate to mention a birth before it was confirmed, and letters could always be intercepted. And yet she was sure that was what Charles was doing, telling her in his own way that she was no longer his only child. The rest of the letter was brief, Charles clearly distracted by his news.

She wrote back, trying to convey her joy without making it too obvious. She always asked after Erik’s health, but now she was doing so more than ever.

_My Darling Wife, I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve assigned my brother and his husband to your private guard when you return, as they lost their roles within the Consort’s guard. Apparently, they were sparring with him. Alex says he was a pretty good fighter, but Charles nearly ripped out their throats for daring to lay a hand on him. Please let me know this is okay?  
With all my heart, forever,  
Scott._

_My dear daughter, I believe Erik has finally calmed, after his uncertainty and the risk to his health he took with sparring._   
Jean read over Charles’s message, understanding - Erik was finally coming to accept the pregnancy, after his attempt to miscarry that could so easily have worked, using Alex’s eagerness to fight to put the unborn infant at risk.   
_I caught him singing to himself today. He seems a little more settled, although I believe he misses you dearly. I know he also misses the food he has grown up with, but I am trying to arrange suitable substitutes. If you have any recommendations, please do let me know…_

The letters were a constant stream, her connection to her homeland. Page after page from Charles, and brief notes from Scott. And then one day, two letters arrived.

In Scott’s hand: _Please never doubt my love for you. Always. Scott._

If that letter concerned her, that was nothing compared to the note from Charles.  
 _Jean, come home._   
That was all he said. No pages of explanation, not even a request.

It was Ororo who delivered the letters, who would stay in Jean’s stead. Jean spent a few frantic hours, briefing her as best she could, providing her with all the information she had. And then she saddled up her horse, and returned to the court.

***

After being summoned home, Jean returned as quickly as possible. She rode until her horse tired, then left the horse with her escort, and took to the air, using her telekinesis to race above the valleys and get back to Westchester’s capital. Flight exhausted her, but if Charles and Scott needed her home, she would get there.

Eventually, as she was starting to feel almost dizzy from her exertion, she caught sight of the familiar towers of the castle. That gave her the strength to hurry on, landing by the stables. As soon as she hit the earth she crumpled to her knees, curling up a little as she tried to steady her breath, scrabbling to get her feet beneath her. She wasn’t sure she could actually make it to the castle itself, she was so tired. She reached out telepathically, ordering the nearest servant to fetch her husband.

It didn’t take long. Strong arms wrapped around her, and she found herself lifted up into Scott’s arms. 

“You came home?”

“The king needed me. You needed me. Of course I did.”

Scott’s smile looked a little pained, but he squeezed her close. “Please tell me you didn’t fly the entire distance.” 

“Only after the horse tired. What am I needed for?”

“The king has… made some progress. I …” Another look of pain crossed Scott’s face. “I will explain, but first let’s get you a warm drink and something sweet, you’ve used up your strength, my love.”

She allowed him to carry her to the kitchens, gratefully taking the sweet pastries she was offered, and allowing him to cuddle her close. There was something major he wasn’t telling her, but she didn’t feel in a rush to discover it - not when his touches were so careful, and she could feel the love he held for her radiating from him. 

After she had eaten and drunk a little, she was strong enough to make her way back to their rooms, although she leaned against him for support. He seemed more cautious than he normally would be in helping her, but he guided her, and she let him open the door to their room, too exhausted to use her telekinesis.

He placed her down on the bed reverently, reaching out and stroking his hand through her hair before he moved it away, anguish playing across his features. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too. I loved all your letters,” she reassured, attempting to prop herself up on the cushions so that she could look at him more easily. “Ororo will arrange for them to be sent back. I couldn’t bring them with me when it was so urgent I return… Scott…” She reached for his hand, but he kept his hands at his sides, not meeting her gaze. “Scott, darling, what happened?”

“I… I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I love you so much, I’d… I’d never want to betray you-” It looked as though at any moment tears would spill from behind his red glasses. 

“I know… did something happen?” She thought of Logan, the fondness Scott held for him, the way she understood emotions could get twisted during the heat of combat. She swallowed nervously. “You can tell me.” She loved Scott. Whatever had happened, they would work through it.

He nodded, looking at her and sitting down in the comfortable chair beside their bed. “Does… does the king require you?”

She reached out telepathically - not for Charles’s mind, but for the mind of one of his servants, telling them to ask. A few moments passed, and then Scott spoke, Charles reaching through and using his telepathy on her husband.

“Jean, I will meet you for breakfast tomorrow to explain what has happened. I am sorry, but things will improve. Your return will help greatly. Please speak to Scott tonight, but know no harm was meant, on either side.”

Scott shuddered, and now it was her husband facing her once more.

“He said he can meet me tomorrow, and that no harm was meant. You can tell me what happened. Why was I sent for?” 

Scott continued to tilt his head down towards the floor, not reaching for her. She rested a hand against his knee, squeezing gently, and after a few moments he managed a weak smile.

“Something happened… almost happened…” He shivered, but his hand rested against her own. “You need to know, you being sent for, it wasn’t Erik’s fault. He was afraid, he’s… something’s very wrong. He tried to leave this evening.”

Jean listened, trying to follow the conversation.

“We intercepted him, and Charles… Charles is going to talk to him.”

“That wasn’t why they sent for me,” she pointed out - even with her ability, Ororo would have been ordered out some time before that evening.

“No. It wasn’t.” Scott looked away, the image of dejectedness and shame. “I… I was trying to check up on the grain imports, I know we’ve had them evade taxes before, and I know you always say no one would check on it if you didn’t…” He looked away, and she squeezed his hand. 

She knew he had feelings for Logan, even if she hadn’t expected him to act on them. She loved him regardless.

“What happened with Logan, Scott?”

“Nothing?” Scott frowned at her. “It wasn’t Logan. It was…” he looked down and shook his head, moving away from her hand. “It wasn’t Erik’s fault. He… he found me, and he…” Scott looked down and shook his head. “I’m sorry Jean. He… He tried- He- I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry, Scott?” Jean asked. She was tired, but he needed her right now. “It’s okay.”

“I betrayed you with… with the consort…” The words escaped him in a frightened tangle. “I didn’t want to, I was just reading and he came up and he- he knelt and tried to use his mouth on me.” Scott’s voice was little more than a tearful whisper. “I stopped him but… I’m so sorry, Jean. I love you.”

She moved to straddle his lap, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, bringing her forehead to his own. He shuddered beneath her. “Why, Scott?” She couldn’t imagine how Charles would respond - if her husband had tried to seduce the Royal Consort, it would mean death, but Scott wasn’t acting like a man who had wanted to betray his wife.

“I don’t know,” he murmured. “He was unhappy, he… I’m sorry, I stopped him but… I should never have even permitted him to touch me.”

“You… you didn’t want it, did you?” Jean asked, tenderly. Scott looked up at her through his thick red lenses, shaking his head again.

“I didn’t… but it didn’t feel like he wanted to either Jean… you can’t blame him. It wasn’t his fault, I’m sorry I-”

She leaned forwards and kissed him. “I don’t blame you. Charles said no harm was meant on either side. I’ll need to talk to him, to understand. But I don’t blame you…” She pressed her face against his shoulder, and his arms wrapped around her, his strong form shaking with silent sobs.

“I didn’t mean to betray you.”

“You know that Cain… he once tried to…” She sighed and shook her head. “If he had succeeded, you wouldn’t blame me?”

“Never!” Scott jerked away slightly, sheer shock and horror written across his features. “I would never blame you, my love.”

“Then why blame yourself, if you weren’t willing?”

“I’m an alpha and he’s- he’s an omega, it… it must have been my fault.”

“I’ll talk to him,” she promised. “But I don’t blame you. I swear to you, my husband. It wasn’t a betrayal.”

Slowly, Scott nodded, staring up at her with eyes shining with desperate hope. She smiled at him. “Come to bed. Hold me. I’ve missed your arms around me, and I am tired. Please.”

Scott nodded, and allowed her to lead him to bed, curling up around her with his body tucked against her own, his hands caressing her sides as he sought to reassure himself she was back. She kept her voice gentle, promising him he wasn’t in trouble, that she didn’t blame him. Eventually, they both fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you. It's been a tough month, but I really am enjoying working on this, and your comments are super-encouraging.


	5. Jean - Friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings this chapter for brief mention of sexual assault, very vague concerns over domestic violence, and some second hand embarrassment.

She woke early to a servant knocking on the door. Scott’s arms were around her, clutching her for reassurance, but after a moment he pulled away. 

“I’ll be back,” Jean promised, slipping from his grasp and opening the door to the servant. 

“The King requests your presence in his study, Lady Grey.”

“Thank you. Please tell him I will be there shortly.” 

Once the servant left, she turned her attention to her husband, wrapping her arms around him for a moment and pressing a gentle kiss to Scott’s forehead. “I’ll talk to him. I’ll make sure you aren’t in trouble.”

“Don’t let him blame Erik either, please.”

“I won’t.” She promised, touched by her lover’s kindness. Scott was a gentle, caring man. She believed him when he said Erik meant no harm. 

“I love you,” Scott whispered, and she nodded, leaning in for another kiss before she pulled away, dressing herself carefully and then heading to Charles’s study. She pushed it open with her telekinesis, clearing her throat, and braced herself for the king’s fury. 

He looked up at her and smiled.

“Jean, thank you…” Charles looked tired, but there was a sense of joy that was radiating from him, past her shields. “Thank you for coming. I wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t urgent.”

“I don’t understand.” Jean admitted.

“I know. I didn’t understand either. But I understand now. Erik… Erik loves me. And he loves our child…” He held his arms out for Jean to embrace him, and she did so. He nuzzled her hair before he gestured for her to take a seat. 

“What- what happened?”

“Erik didn’t understand what he meant to me,” Charles said softly. “He… attempted… he was terrified. He thought I was going to discard him. His seduction of Scott was a simple attempt to try and protect our child…”

“You used your telepathy on him?”

“I had no choice. When he tried to flee, I couldn’t… avoid it, not for a moment longer. He was so desperately unhappy… and Cain had threatened him, bruised his wrists. He was terrified.” For a moment, Charles looked proud. “He managed to knock out the two alpha guards and steal a horse, all to try and keep our baby safe.” Charles shook his head, looking down. “He didn’t understand that we were wed. That I loved him. He didn’t know why I didn’t… didn’t use my telepathy, on him or you or Raven. He wants me in his mind, and I will, if that brings him happiness, but he’s hurting, and you… you’re the closest he has to a friend. I need to show the court that I won’t hurt him, that he is my consort, that any threat to him is a threat to me.” 

She nodded slowly, and Charles smiled. 

“Would you be willing to talk to him? To help him learn how to fit within the court, to- to be happy here? I know he loves our child, but I can’t stand the thought of him being alone when he needs a friend.”

“I can do that,” Jean promised. “And I’ll speak to Scott, explain why… Scott meant no harm.”

“I know. He acted honourably, thank heavens. If he hadn’t… he would have left me in an impossible situation. But your husband is a good man.”

“He is.”

“I want to assemble the court, deal with Cain. Will you be able to bring Erik breakfast? I am sure he’ll be overjoyed to see you.” 

“Of course. I’ll let him know that I- that I forgive him. That he isn’t in trouble, and that I am back to help him.” She looked down. “I’m sorry I wasn’t clearer, at first-”

“You didn’t know. We both assumed he would know, but that monster filled his mind with lies. Still, we should focus on the fact he is safe now. Go, greet him. Take care of him, and when he has eaten can you bring him to the Great Hall? There’s no hurry, I wish for him to feel comfortable.”

“As you wish, my lord.” Jean answered, embracing him for a moment before she stepped away, heading to the kitchen to fetch food, and then making her way to the king’s bedchamber.

Erik was lying there asleep, naked, a silken sheet covering his modesty. She placed the tray of food down on the side, and waited, picking up a book of poetry from Charles’s bedside to read as Erik slumbered on.

Eventually, his eyes flickered open, and it took a moment before he saw her, looking at her fondly.

“I’ll let you get dressed,” she said, turning away. After a moment, she considered the ignorance the poor man had to her people’s traditions. She felt she had failed him before, not realising the cause of his discomfort. She would not fail him again, she would be clear. He deserved that at least. “It can be rude here, to see someone else naked. I don’t know if anyone ever told you that.”

Erik dressed quickly before speaking. "I didn't know you had returned."

She looked back at him, smiling a little to see him fumbling at his laces, childlike. "Let me?" She offered, and when he didn't object she walked over and did up his laces. She looked at him fondly, thinking of what Charles had told her, telling herself Erik had meant to protect his unborn child. She could understand that, even if he had put Scott at risk by it. Erik had acted out of innocence, not cruelty. 

"Charles sent for me a few days ago. He was worried about you." She hoped that would bring Erik some comfort, the knowledge Charles had been concerned, had tried to comfort him. She wished it could have waited until she had returned - when she would have been able to translate between them. But Erik's attempt at fleeing had forced Charles to act... dishonourably. To invade his husband's mind. Luckily, at least for now Erik didn't appear to be humiliated. "He wanted to have someone who could translate, but I suppose you solved that issue yourselves?"

A look of guilt passed across Erik's face as he looked down, and Jean felt her heart ache. It wasn't Erik's fault. He'd done nothing wrong. "It's a question of telepathy, that’s all. I’m not mad at you. Well, not anymore." There had been a flicker of rage at seeing her husband in pain, but she had pushed it down, tempered it with the knowledge that Erik had aimed to protect his unborn child. "Charles explained to me about Scott.”

"Scott?" Erik looked at her in confusion, as though surprised, and with sudden dawning shock she realised he didn't know what he had done. He hadn't comprehended the potential impact of his actions.

"He's my husband." She said the words as gently and calmly as she could, as though it wasn't causing her pain to think of what had happened, how confused and hurt Scott had been in her arms the previous night.

Shock shows itself on Erik's face, his skin taking on an omegan blush, arms crossed protectively over his stomach. "I'm sorry."

She managed a smile in response. "Like I said, Charles explained. He explained to Scott as well, though he was never angry at you, just concerned." Before Erik could worry himself further, she handed him the bowl of food. "Sit. Eat." She settled beside him, watching. The poor man was hungry, and she handed him some fruit, gazing at his stomach. Her mind wandered, wondering whether Charles' child would be a sister or a brother for her. "Congratulations... on the baby."

"Thank you," Erik answered after a moment, seeming almost confused by it. "Have the negotiations finished?"

Jean felt a flutter of guilt, not wanting to concern the man. "Not quite. But they’re more stable than they were before. I’m sorry I wasn’t here to help you adjust, but they were quite urgent.” She blamed herself for what had happened. She should have been there, to comfort and reassure him, to shelter him from the strangeness of his new life. If she had done her duty, then all of the mess that had happened could have been avoided.

"I took you away from them?" Erik asked, and he sounded so guilty. 

She shook her head quickly, refusing to let him sink into self-blame when none of what had happened was his fault. "Charles did. You mean more to him than propriety. Ororo has taken over the negotiations in my stead. They have a translator there; not as good as me, but serviceable.” 

He looked at her slowly, searching for a lie, and she felt guilt sink into her chest. She'd failed him, and if not for the fact Scott was a good man, she could have caused a rift at the heart of the nation. "I'm sorry. I didn’t tell you all the things you should have been told.”

Erik went to shake his head, and she was glad he didn't blame her. Still, she thought of all her mistakes that first night. She'd tried to comfort him, but without knowing why he was hurt, there had been little she could have done to soothe the pain. She thought of her own first night with Scott, and how she'd felt, when Scott had given all he could to be tender to her. She had known what to expect. For Erik, the pain would have been terrifying, even discounting his lack of understanding over the wedding itself.  
“It was my responsibility. That night, Charles put you in my care. I can’t imagine how frightened you were. I was frightened on my wedding night, and I’ve grown up with these traditions."

"It was alright," Erik reassured her, looking up with eyes full of hope. "The king is... very kind."

"I think he would like it if you called him Charles," Jean told Erik, and was rewarded with the shyest of smiles from Erik. She reached out to pat his knee and took the tray from him as there was a knock on the door, a servant's mind waiting outside.

Jean raised her hand to allow the servant entrance, smiling to see one of those she had tasked with keeping an eye on Erik during her absence. The woman, Kitty, bowed low at the two of them and smiled.

"I am glad you have returned, Lady Grey. I know that Lord Grey has missed you greatly. But the King requests your presence." There was amusement tingeing Kitty's voice, and Jean understood - she knew that what was about to happen had been a long time coming. The Court might have turned a blind eye to Cain's indiscretions with serving girls, but he had injured the Royal Consort, and that was exactly the kind of mistake Charles had been waiting for. She turned to Erik, offering him her arm. "Come, the King wants us."

He clutched at her arm, following her as she led him through to the Great Hall, where Charles was waiting for them with Cain kneeling at his feet. She knew whatever would occur would be deserved - she thought Charles would probably let Erik decide if the man was executed or banished, and knew of the Genoshans' reputation of bloodthirstiness. Erik however seemed hesitant.

"Go on." She offered him a reassuring smile, and watched as he walked closer to Charles, feeling a deep sense of satisfaction settle in her chest as Cain apologised, relief flooding her as the man was banished at Erik's wish.

She watched as the Court was dismissed and Scott escorted Cain away, and waited to see if she would be needed to serve as a translator. But when the couple approached, Charles shook his head and she slipped away to reunite with her husband. 

She found him talking with Logan, the two men laughing together. As she arrived, Logan offered her a little half-bow and a wink. "Lady Grey, I hear you have come to save the kingdom from ruin."

"You did that, by the sounds of it." She smiled, part of her still shy in the face of Logan's handsomeness. "Did you have much trouble getting Cain to comply with the King's wishes."

"Oh, no, I found it quite fun," Logan answered, bone claws peeking from the back of his hands.

She ducked her head to hide her smirk, and Scott cleared his throat. She looked up and saw a small frown mar her husband's forehead. She reached out for his hand.

Scott looked more settled now, his arms wrapping around her waist once they were alone, kissing her. "My darling, you managed to save the royal marriage."

"With your help," she agreed, leaning into his embrace. "I do believe I have no duties for the rest of the day. I thought perhaps we could go riding?"

Scott kissed her softly once more, then led her to the stables. The King had no need of her until the morning, and she spent time with the man she loved. 

The following dawn found her lying in Scott's arms, his fingers tracing up and down her ribcage, when his gaze changed, and he pulled a blanket up across her chest.

"I am sorry," he spoke, not in Scott's voice but Charles's own. Jean took a moment to gather herself, her face flushing, but she took a deep breath and then bowed her head. 

"My Lord?"

"I did not mean to intrude. It is just that apparently Erik wishes to spar. I wondered if you would wish to be the one to convey to Alex and his partner that they can serve as the Consort's guards once more, and that they may spar as long as care is taken and Hank is able to supervise to protect the baby."

"I can do that," Jean agreed. "Congratulations. On... on all of this."

Charles's presence faded from Scott, and she embraced him once more, before she went to dress and then tell Armando and Alex they had been reinstated. They were delighted, although their delight was nothing compared to the sheer ecstasy that showed on Erik's face when she went to tell him the news.

That joy didn't even seem dampened by the fact that Hank was unavailable that day, and so he couldn't spar. Instead, Jean brought Erik to the library, sitting with him on comfortable chairs. "I thought I could teach you to read."

"Westchesterian?" Erik asked.

"I thought that would help, but I can teach you Genoshan as well if you'd like. I'm not very good with it, but we have a few texts that I can show you if you'd want that." She offered it gently, wanting to show him some kind of familiarity and comfort.

Rather than smiling, he looked at her in confusion. "I can read Genoshan. All the Lord's family learned, we were taught by the scribes... Can omegas... not read here?"

"We educate them now," she reassured him. "It's just that it was only recently... I'm sorry. I didn't think you could read, but I'll write next time I get sent away. I'll write to you every day."

Erik's expression brightened, and he did smile then. "Thank you. I would like to learn Westchesterian, please."

"Of course. Do say if you get tired."

"I'm only a few months pregnant, Jean. I don't need to rest all the time-"

"It's good for your health," Jean reassured, but Erik shook his head. 

"It isn't. It... I've never known it. In Genosha, pregnant omegas and betas ride and spar and work. They don't... lie around, helpless and weakening."

Jean stared at him in shock. "They... spar?"

"To stay strong. For the child," Erik agreed.

Jean felt her understanding shift. Learning that Erik tried to spar while pregnant had been a surprise, but it was nothing compared to discovering that such an act wasn't a desperate attempt to end the pregnancy, but instead something Erik considered acceptable for omegas in his condition.

"I... didn't know that omegas could do that." She swallowed. She'd always been put off learning about Genoshan culture, too horrified by the knowledge that things could easily have ended up differently. If she had been born an omega... if the war had been a little more one-sided... if Charles hadn't been so fond of her... she could have found herself in Erik's place, bartered away as Shaw's bride. Her terror of what that would entail had stopped her from wanting to know more about Erik's culture. 

"They can. Charles has agreed as long as I'm careful."

"He's still using his telepathy on you?" She frowned, and Erik shrugged.

"I like it. It feels safe. Telepaths in Genosha use their powers freely. It must be hard for those here not to do the same."

"We get used to it," Jean reassured. The last thing she wanted was for the Royal Consort to worry himself about a situation she had accepted years ago. 

"It just...seems unfortunate," Erik said thoughtfully. "But... I understand. Having ideas that matter to you, even if they don't necessarily make sense... no, I understand that." He sighed to himself. "But it does feel good for Charles to be in my mind."

"I'm... glad, for you," Jean answered carefully, despite the way all of her awareness of decorum and politeness was telling her to be concerned by Charles's breach of respectability. Still, Erik had clearly been miserable before, and she had been unable to stay with him and guide him. If this had served to make him feel more settled in Westchester, she could hardly object.

To try and move the conversation on, she found a volume of myths. She had found the stories intriguing as a child, and she could only hope that they would interest Erik. "I can read to you, but first we should make sure you can read your name."

There was a pause before he nodded, a slight frown settling on his face. "I'll try. Your styluses are different."

"You will get used to them." Jean promised, showing him how to wrap his fingers around the shaft of the pen, how to dip it into ink and then create the soft swooping curves of the Westchesterian alphabet.

He practised writing out his name, and Charles's, and Jean's, and as they continued to work it grew later in the day. Jean reached out mentally to Kitty, asking her to bring a few different sweet snacks for Erik, making sure he would have the fruit he wanted, ripe berries and fresh apples.

Erik was watching her write out the names of the different generals when Kitty phased through the room, bowing to them both. "I'm sorry to take so long, Lady Grey, but I thought I would ask Bobby if he would prepare you a fruit ice each."

"Thank you, Kitty. " Jean gently coaxed Erik through thanking Kitty as well, watching her leave and then offering Erik the fruit ice before it melted. He ate it hungrily.

"How did she know where to find us?" He frowned. "There are so many rooms. Did she just wander from one to another until she found where we were, or-"

"I spoke to her," Jean interrupted, frowning a little from confusion. "I knew we were getting hungry, so I reached out to her mind."

Erik stared at her, and she could see him working something out. He put down his pen before he spoke to her. "You're a telepath?"

"I am," she answered, startled. "I'm sorry, I believed that you had been told that I was-"

"I thought you were telekinetic."

"I'm both." She gave a small self-deprecating shrug. "I have telepathy and telekinesis."

"You are powerful." He smiled at her, carefully writing down a couple of words in the Genoshan script, and then handing the paper to her. "This says you are strong, and wishes you luck."

"Thank you." She smiled and cleared her throat, brushing her fingers over the lettering. "What do I do with it?"

"Traditionally you can keep it with you until the next full moon, and then bury it wherever you..." A frown crossed Erik's face. "We always say to bury it where you are sleeping for the night, but given your room is several floors up-"

She laughed softly, but not unkindly. "I can slip it in a crack in the stonework, if that would suffice?"

He considered, and nodded. "It... it's strange here. Being inside. I was never in a building before this. There are so many different rules and ideas, and..." he shook his head, lost in thought. "The idea that Charles is mistreating me by being in my mind, when it is where he belongs..."

"I'm glad that you two have... found a compromise," Jean picked her words carefully, frowning a little. "I remember Scott's mind was... comforting, before we became so close it was inappropriate for me to reach there."

"Are there many minds that you hold yourself from?" Erik asked curiously. "I knew a telepath before, and she used her gift with utter confidence."

"I only hold myself back from the king, yourself, and my husband," Jean explained, understanding that these new rules were hard for Erik. "And as far as I know, the king only holds himself from your mind, my own, and that of Raven."

"Just her of the generals?"

"The two of them grew up alongside each other, she was..." Jean hesitated. "She was like a sister to him, and he was loyal and protective of her from childhood... his step-father was cruel to the two of them, until... well, I'm sure Charles can tell you that." She turned her attention to the plate of food, not wanting to overstep what it was appropriate for her to share.

Erik nodded, picking at the food, hand resting against his stomach. "You said that Scott was your husband?"

"He is."

"Are the other generals married?"

"Just he and Raven - Raven has a beautiful wife, named Irene, and two children: Kurt, who is their child by birth, and Marie, who is a little foundling Irene discovered. Ororo is currently pursuing a diplomat, and Logan... Logan has dalliances, and he flirts, but he doesn't seem interested in a marriage."

"I see..." Erik considered. "In Genosha, the generals don't marry. They can take lovers, but not-"

Jean blushed a little at the reminder of what marriage could mean in Genosha for the leaders, and at the thought of being a general's lover without the respectability of marriage.

Erik considered. "There was no... does Westchester not have the herbs used to induce heat?"

Jean felt her blush deepen at the thought of discussing such intimate issues. "We do, but such medicines are only used by omegas who have problems with having a heat naturally."

"But I wasn't in heat when Charles married me," Erik pointed out. "And he knotted-"

Jean cleared her throat again, certain by now she must have been matching her hair. "That's... expected. To prove that you were... truly untouched. And anyway, it ... it's expected. For the alpha's pleasure."

The look on Erik's face was hard to comprehend without her telepathy. It wasn't confusion as such. It was more sadness, even pain. 

"I am sorry it hurt," she told him gently, reaching out to squeeze his hand. "I know it... it was painful for me but..."

"You're a beta." Erik pointed out, sounding if anything more distressed. She nodded, and Erik awkwardly guided her into an embrace, his fingers brushing her shoulders.

"Could you leave him?" he asked carefully. "If you wished to?"

"I wouldn't wish to," She promised, cuddling him for a moment longer and then straightening up, her fingers absently tracing the words he had written on the parchment scrap. "A divorce would reflect badly on me in the court, and I... Scott is a kind man, and I love him. Please don't worry about me."

"You've been married for a while but you don't have any children?" Erik asked, and the bluntness startled her. She took a deep breath, reminding herself of how she had failed him on his first night in Westchester. It was natural for him to want to know these things.

"I've been busy with work."

"You and he don't lie together?" Erik asked, and Jean momentarily considered using her telekinesis to tear a hole in the floor of the library and escape. She owed Erik answers.

"There are herbs..." she sighed. "I can't arrange for you to have them yet, not until after you have carried an alpha heir, but..." She winked at him conspiratorially. "After that, there are ways. Not that we tell the alphas, of course."

He looked at her, and nodded. "I wouldn't tell anyone your secret."

She shot him a grateful smile, before attempting to return the conversation to a safer topic. "How have you found the food here?"

"Good," Erik answered thoughtfully. "Better. At first it... I wasn't sure. But then after the first few weeks it improved greatly."

"Charles wrote to me, asking what food I thought you would enjoy," she admitted. "I really am glad that you were happy with it."

"You did wonderfully. It... helped. I was...very bored, and very homesick." He paused. "You really expect your omegas to just... 'rest'?" He used the Westchesterian word for resting, his face creasing with discomfort.

"Pregnancy is hard on those who endure it," Jean explained carefully. "Physically it is exhausting, and sometimes... it can shatter the mind. Encouraging rest is meant to minimise the stress you are under."

"I hate it," Erik said viciously. "And I would not think Westchester's omegas so different from Genosha's, and yet ours work and train as hard as anyone else."

Jean listened, trying to ignore her initial repulsion at the idea and instead understand what he was saying. "I will make sure to have lessons with you every day, if that would comfort you."

"I should like that, a lot." Erik looked up at her and smiled. "I did not think I would find any friends in Westchester. I am glad I have found you."

"I am glad to have found you as well," Jean answered. "And even gladder to be your friend." She meant that. She had feared that Erik would hate her, see her as opposition for Charles's rightful heirs. Instead, he was a companion for her, and even if he was from a very different world, she had hope that in time he would be happy, and that Charles would be happy with him as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, and especially thank you to those who have commented, it means a lot


	6. Scott - Desire

Scott loved Jean from the very first moment he had met her. She was beautiful, intelligent, and stunningly clever, always able to find solutions. She spoke more languages than he had even heard of, and she was the ward of the king. Scott had felt a little embarrassed when her mind had brushed his that first time, but he’d thought nothing of it.

Now, four years later, he still found his breath swept away at the fact that she was his wife. Scott was from a minor family, nothing to offer other than himself, and he knew there were those who would say he was lacking. And yet his wife loved him, and made him happier than he had ever thought he could be. She wrote to him when she was away, defending the country’s interests, saving his soldiers' lives. Having her back, even given the unfortunate circumstances of her return, was better than he could ever have dreamed of.

Some of the other soldiers teased him, saying he should be jealous of the Consort for the time he was spending with Jean, but Scott was just glad to see his wife finding a friend who made her so happy. She and the Consort had started to argue for the rights of poor omegas, and his heart swelled with pride at the knowledge that it was his wife who was going to help so many people, because she was remarkable. He wanted nothing more than to scream his love from the rooftops.

Jean was his everything. Which was why his stomach twisted when he caught her and Logan laughing. He had never thought himself a jealous man, but that had to be the problem.

The only problem with that argument was the way he felt when Logan looked at him. Logan sniffed around, knowing exactly what he was doing, and part of Scott wanted that, even though he knew it was forbidden, even though he had Jean to return to, Jean who he loved more than life itself.

He didn’t know what was wrong with him. The Consort’s actions when they had been alone certainly hadn’t helped, but he knew he couldn’t blame the man who had acted from fear. He just felt haunted. Between that, and his unasked for attraction to Logan, he wondered if he simply wasn’t good enough for his wife. 

He knew Jean deserved the best, and he knew he wasn't it. But he threw himself into trying to make her happy, bringing her flowers he had picked out on patrol, buying her small gifts in the market. She seemed happy. At night, she would lay beneath him as he made love to her, and kiss him, and he'd kiss back.

Jean was the only person he had ever kissed, and he would have said that she was the only one he ever wanted to kiss. But more than once he shook awake after dreaming of Logan. He couldn't be sure if it was Jean's dreams leaching across to him, or something worse. 

He tried to put it from his mind, not mentioning it, focusing on the threat of conflict with the Isle of the Sky, of the fact he might soon need to lead his soldiers into battle. He spent hours training each day, working with the alpha men and women he knew were most skilled, and aware that any mistake could mean some of them not coming home. He wanted to be sure he'd done everything he could for them.

He had been in conflict before, most notably against Genosha. But he had been a Captain then, not a General. Any losses would fall more heavily on him this time, because he would be the one strategising.

Logan walked up one day after training, his skin damp with sweat. He had discarded his shirt somewhere during a practice fight, and the last few scratches that had been inflicted were healing up.

"You okay there, Cyke?" Logan asked, gesturing to the man's glasses which he claimed made Scott look like a cyclops. Scott refused to rise to the insult. Logan was... infuriating. Constantly alternating between flirting with him and insulting him, and being utterly brazen about both of them. But the question at least sounded genuine.

"How do you handle the losses?" Scott asked, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

"You fight hard, you get revenge and you honour them." Logan shrugged. "It hurts. Every time. But they trust you, and you gotta... you gotta repay that trust, you know? Prove it weren't in vain. You can't avoid death, Scott. You're a damned good strategist, but you're not immune to it." He patted Scott's shoulder. "They believe in you, and you're good at what you do. That's all they can ask for." With that, he stepped away. "You should talk to Jeanie, let her help."

"Yeah." Scott didn't look at Logan's retreating back, at the outline of his muscles, at the strength and sheer ferocity there. He thought of Jean, of her smile and her clever wit, and how she fitted in his arms as though she was made for him.

That night, he talked to Jean about his fear of the war, and she told him that Erik had gained a horse from Genosha, that he was delighted, and how the two of them had been speaking about what omegas could do. Jean seemed fascinated by the idea that Genoshan omegas were able to carry on with their normal life during pregnancy.

"Do you think if we were to have a child, I could still work?" she asked him when he was sated, her head on his chest.

"I suppose you could still write letters?" he conceded after a moment's thought. He knew that traditionally letter writing was thought to be bad for those who were pregnant, but he knew Jean would suffer if she simply needed to rest. She made a soft noise of complaint, but didn't ask for any more that night. He rubbed his hands over her shoulders, pulling the blanket close around her.

***

Weeks passed, and slowly but irrevocably Westchester headed towards war.

Scott was staring down at a map, considering the latest information about troop movements, when he heard the door open. He lifted his head, frowning a little when he saw the Royal Consort there - thankfully backed by Alex and Armando, after what had occurred the last time they were alone. The Consort was obscenely swollen with child, one hand resting on his stomach as he approached. Scott had never even seen an omega this late in their pregnancy, but he understood that this was… Jean said this was what would make the Consort happy, so he tried to smile even as his heart rate picked up.

“Hello,” he greeted, thankful a table was between them. “Are you alright?”

The Consort approached, bowing his head. “I am sorry, for before.” He spoke - his accent was thick, but he had learned a little of the language.

Scott shook his head. “I know it was a misunderstanding.” He did know that. Jean had made it clear to him - that in the brutality this man was born to, it had been a simple desperate attempt to save his child. He could never blame him for that. He didn’t feel comfortable, but he knew no harm was meant.

“Thank you. I want to talk about Jean.” The man frowned a little, stumbling over his words - this wasn’t a speech Scott’s wife had helped him prepare. “She misses your mind.”

“It’s not allowed.” Scott said clearly, frowning up at him while trying not to stare at the pregnancy.

“She thinks your mind is beautiful. She cried. She misses it. She is a good woman.” The Consort stumbled his way through his sentences, looking Scott in the eye. “Please.”

Slowly, Scott nodded. “I’ll talk to her.”

“Thank you.” The Consort turned to leave, and Scott let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. 

He watched him leave, waiting until he was gone before he sunk down into his chair. He knew that Jean had been unhappy the past few days - she'd mentioned that Charles was in Erik's mind, but he'd assumed she was offended. But as the war looked more likely, and his absence for long periods looked more certain, she'd seemed disheartened. He'd assumed it was simply hurt that she had been unable to prevent conflict, but if the telepathy situation was what was upsetting her.... well, that was something he would be able to do.

Using telepathy on a loved one was taboo. It was seen as too invasive, too impolite. But if Jean wanted that... he would manage it. He would offer it to her, see if she wanted to be able to communicate telepathically. 

Once he was past his initial repulsion, he thought of how they had communicated at first, when he was wooing her. He'd enjoyed the presence of Jean's thoughts alongside his own. If it would comfort her... he could offer that again.

He waited until the two of them were alone that night, brushing his fingers through her flame hair, guilt twisting inside of him. If the Consort was right, if Jean missed the presence of his mind... he couldn't deny her that, couldn't deny her anything. But if she looked, he hated to think what she might find: the way his admiration for Logan was twisted to something he didn't even want to comprehend.

He remembered what the Consort had said. That Jean was upset by the absence of his mental touch. He cleared his throat, bestowing a gentle kiss to Jean's forehead. She looked up at him fondly, her eyes sparkling. He wondered how vivid they were - Logan had told him they were green but he wished he could see for himself.

"What's troubling you, Scott?"

"I... spoke to the Consort, earlier." Scott was glad that she couldn't look into his eyes. "And he told me that you... that you missed using your telepathy on me. Is that true?"

A look of concern crossed her face, and then she cringed a little, fear giving way to sorrow.Slowly she nodded. "He wasn't meant to say."

Scott wrapped his arms around her tightly, taking a deep breath, inhaling the scent of her, and pressed another kiss to her lips. "I... you know I love you, don't you Jean?"

"Of course," she answered, and there was fear there, and it stung his heart. He knew that before Charles, an omega or beta expressing anything against their alpha’s wishes could have faced untold brutality without even the faintest shielding of the law. Things were different now, but there was still an expectation of obedience which didn't quite fit with the two of them. Still, what Jean was asking of him... it was unthinkable.

It would make Jean happy.

"As long as you know," he told her, trying to keep his voice steady. "And I ask you don't go digging around too far into my memories, or pester me during training. But yes. I grant you permission to be inside of my mind."

The moment those words left his lips he felt a flood of joy and warmth and hope which weren't his own, the sheer fire of Jean's thoughts brushing his. Her eyes flickered slightly, and she clung to him tighter, kissing him with more passion than he had felt from her for a long time as her thoughts raced alongside his own.

 _Thank you,_ Her voice sung in his mind, as she kissed him again and again, moving so she was almost straddling him, breathless and wide-eyed, and he could sense the joy of her, and he told himself that even if she found something that caused her pain, it was worth it for this delight.

He rolled them over so that he was above her, kissing her, running his hands down her, and the entire time he could feel sparks of joy from her mind against his own. He'd never seen her like this, and he committed it to memory. She was gorgeous, and he didn't think he'd ever seen her look more beautiful than at that moment, overwhelmed with joy. Her mind gripped his, and he felt her urging him onward, with an eagerness that left him panting. She cried out softly, muffling herself in his kisses, and he focused on her, and on their love, and put aside fears about propriety and thoughts of a certain general. They had each other. 

***

The Consort delivered two healthy omegan children, a boy and a girl, and Jean continued to spend time with him, teaching him Westchester’s language. She said that the Consort was learning well, and he certainly seemed to be showing more interest whenever he appeared, even going so far as to carry his newborns into the feasting hall one evening so that he could speak to the King. Jean's mind had brushed Scott's own, excusing herself as she went to assist them. It felt natural now, to have her thoughts with his. They'd never felt apart, but now he felt like she was part of him, and he part of her. They would speak as they went about their business, her busy with diplomacy and with the Consort's education, and he with preparations for a war that now looked all but certain.

Raven had ended up training with him most days, and so it became common for him to look after Kurt whilst his mother sparred with some of the soldiers. Scott knew that Jean adored her work, but he couldn't help dreaming of the day that he would get to be a father. Jean seemed a little less taken with the twins, but he hoped that one day she would feel ready to have a child. 

Most of the time, he was able to keep his mind focused on his wife and to avoid his thoughts drifting. But sometimes he saw Logan and part of him wanted. He feared that Jean knew - he couldn't send her from the comfort of his mind - but she never stepped away, never challenged him on it.

He hoped he had gotten away with it, until Jean turned to him, the night before he left with his soldiers for war, and smiled.

"Scott..." Her voice was so gentle, and he braced himself for the worst. Her hand ran through his hair, pausing at the nape of his neck and rubbing there firmly, sending soft shivers down his spine.

"My love?"

"I know that you and Logan will ride out together," she began, and fear flickered within him, soothed only by her touch. "And... I know you are fond of him. And as long as you return to me, I ... I am happy, if you are."

"I would never betray you," Scott answered, his face flushing with guilt. "I might... I might have thought something but I would never-"

She leaned in to kiss him. _Scott. I'm telling you it's alright. He's a handsome man, and I... I understand. I know it hurts you, this guilt you carry. Talk to him._

_I don't want to betray you._

_It's not betrayal if I permit it,_ She pulled away to look into his eyes. "I would... be willing to consider having Logan in our bed, if... if that would be something we all wished for. Erik said... Erik said it wasn't unknown of, in Genosha-"

"What happens to their consorts is sickening." Scott frowned, disgusted Jean could think for a moment he wished for that.

"No. I... I agree. But he says ordinary people, fighters, can take more than one lover, sometimes. That they...find happiness together. And I can't... I don't know if that would work here. But I'd be willing to try. For you. With you." Jean kissed him again, her arms wrapping around him, and he let himself surrender to her gentle touches.

Afterwards, she nuzzled into his embrace. _You don't have to do anything with Logan, I promise you. I will be waiting for your return. But if something were to happen... know I would not consider it a betrayal._

He lay there in bed, feeling her in his arms, his fingers mapping the curves of her body. For a time, there was silence between them, and he almost wondered if she had fallen asleep. But he could still feel her mind against his own, and with a deep breath, he nodded. 

"Thank you, my love." He tightened his arms around her, and tried to rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all those who take teh time to comment - it means so much. Almost got this fic written in its entirety.


	7. Jean - Advisor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for a very brief mention of domestic violence - not featuring any named characters, and the threat of violence to a child.

Being permitted back into Scott's mind was the most remarkable thing Jean could ever have imagined. She always knew her husband's mind was a wonderful place, but there was a difference between knowing that in theory, and being able to spend hours luxuriating in the sensation of his thoughts against her own. Scott was a strategist, a planner, but he also cared so much more than most other people she had met. It felt safe, curling up among his memories and knowing that she was home.

It was a couple of days after that glorious, wonderful return that she was able to corner Erik for a class - the previous day's lesson, they had been joined by Charles who was intrigued by Genoshan writing, and so they hadn't had the chance to speak. But eventually she managed to sit with him in the library.

He was vast now, heavy with child, and he seemed to glow with it, a contented smile on his lips as he caressed the bump in which the royal prince or princess grew.

"Scott told me you came to speak to him."

"I know I shouldn't have," Erik answered unrepentantly, a faint smile on his lips. "Did it work?"

She nodded, allowing Erik to guide her into an embrace. She still found it strange, how very open the man was with his affection, but she was glad to take part in it, and she nuzzled her face against his shoulder. "Thank you. I... hadn't realised how very much I missed him until he returned to me."

"I'm glad I could bring you that." He squeezed her hand. "You have been a good friend to me, Jean. I am so lucky that I have found you."

"You're a good friend to me as well," she reassured him. "And I'm enjoying teaching you."

"I love getting to spend this time with you. Although I think I might well have to miss lessons tomorrow."

"Oh?" She asked, and then her eyes widened as she spotted the pool of fluid spreading across the floor. 

He got up, rubbing at his back and stomach, and taking slow deep breaths as she stayed frozen in terror.

"Jean, could you please contact Hank?"

Wordlessly, and feeling a little sick, she nodded and reached for the doctor's mind, pulling him to them immediately with a frantic sense of urgency.

She stayed with Erik until Hank arrived, and helped escort Erik back from the study to a more appropriate room, before going to break the news to Charles. She took a moment outside the door to catch her breath, feeling a little dizzy with terror. The royal child would soon be out in the world, and she didn't particularly want to be present for its arrival.

***

Luckily, the royal children made their appearance in the care of Hank and a few devoted omegan servants, and not in the study. They were cleaned and made presentable before Charles was called in to see them and he spent some time with his exhausted husband and children, before allowing in Raven, and then Jean. Erik was exhausted and was to be allowed a few hours rest before he presented the children to the King's advisors and then on to the Court as a whole. 

Being permitted to see the royal children so early was an honour that most could not dream of. There were two of them - a silver-haired boy and a brown-haired girl, both swaddled in cloth and looking breathtakingly small. Jean knew she was privileged to be allowed to see them so soon. She just wasn't quite sure what she was meant to say.

Jean looked down at the two infants, and then up at the devoted smiles of their parents. She cleared her throat awkwardly, and nodded. "Congratulations. They're..." She hesitated. What could she say about these two small bundles of life, so young and vulnerable and mewling in their fathers' arms? "I'm really happy for you, Erik. Congratulations, my Lord."

"You can hold them if you'd like?" Erik asked, his words a little slurred from exhaustion. He addressed her in Genoshan, too tired from the birth to manage any other tongue.

She hesitated, and nodded, letting Hank place the little boy baby in her arms. She gazed down at him, wondering at how very tiny and delicate he was, before Hank took the baby away and handed him over to Erik when he began to fuss. Jean turned away as Erik went to feed the child.

"Would you be able to warn the kitchens to expect a large meal tonight? Not their welcoming feast yet, but a celebration."

"Yes, my Lord." Glad to be dismissed, Jean hurried away.

***

Apparently Erik was of the opinion that he did not need someone to care for his newborn infants when Jean gave him his lessons. He was still exhausted after the birth, but he was determined to learn, and so Jean found herself sitting in the King's bedchambers, the way she had the first night Erik had arrived, and talking to him. He was utterly unashamed of his children and their needs, singing to them softly under his breath when he wasn't conversing with Jean, even though the little ones were far too young to understand. Between Erik and his babes and Scott's tales of whatever Kurt had achieved, Jean was beginning to feel rather overwhelmed by children.

Still, she wanted to ensure that Erik could continue with his lessons, and so she sat beside him, watching the care with which he handled the two small infants. She'd teach him the language and some of the information he would need to thrive at Court, and he would repay her with stories from his own childhood.

During a lesson where she was explaining to Erik about the main products, exports and imports of Westchester, his son wouldn't settle. The little boy kept howling every time he was put down. Meanwhile, his sister was starting to fuss from hunger and needing attention. Erik turned to her cautiously.

"Jean, would you hold him for a little while?"

Her first instinct was to say no, to refuse to have anything to do with the children. But Erik was her friend. She nodded, holding out her arms, and let Erik show her how to hold the babe and support his head. The little boy nuzzled against her before he settled, and she tried to bounce him the way Erik had done. 

"Gently," Erik instructed. "You're rocking them, not trying to scramble an egg."

She tried, and Erik looked at her and nodded. "You're doing wonderfully... he likes it if you smile at him."

"He's so small..."

"He is. But he's already got a personality, they both do..." Erik frowned at her. "Have you dealt with children before?"

She shook her head. "Aside from when babies are presented to the Court, I normally don't see them until they're of an age they can have a conversation. He's just... so fragile, and I don't know what to do with him."

"I see..." Erik murmured, before continuing. "I'm lucky Charles didn't take my children away. I would miss them."

"He loves you and them more than anything," Jean reassured, gazing at the boy in her arms. "I just... I don't want to hurt them."

"You won't. Babies and omegas are not as fragile as Westchester seems to believe," Erik insisted. "He likes you..." In her hold, Peter settled, breathing slowly and regularly, no longer fussing now that he could be held. She wondered what it would be like to find this kind of care natural.

"Scott's been helping Raven with her son. His ability means it's very hard to separate him from his parents, so for now Raven is permitting him to accompany her..." Jean sighed. "He keeps teleporting to his mothers if his nanny upsets him."

"Jean, would you see why?" Erik asked softly. "You're a telepath, you could find out..."

"I will," she promised, seeing how Erik cared for the infants. 

"You know," Jean gazed down at the two children with curiosity tinged with fear, almost jealous of the ease with which Erik handled both of them, "it's almost a shame that Scott was born an alpha. He's so good with children..." She kept her voice down both so as not to disturb the little girl nursing against Erik and so that they weren't overheard.

"You do know that alphas can help with the children as well, don't you?" Erik frowned at her. "Charles helps me with these two, and I'd be shocked if he didn't."

"I..." She hesitated, and shrugged. "Everyone's always said that it's my role, as a female beta, but... I'm just not sure what to do with them. And Scott's so good."

"You are doing well with Peter. But... Westchester is wrong, with their ideas. It's not that betas and omegas are made to care for children, and alphas to fight - alphas are just as capable of love as we are. My father would always take time to- to care for me, and my siblings. I loved him dearly, even if I was closer to my mother..."

Jean reached out and squeezed Erik's hand. "Your father sounds like a wonderful man."

"He was," Erik answered, and for a brief while they sat together, each deep within their own thoughts. After a few moments, Erik shook his head. "Will you talk to Kurt though?"

"I'll make sure to see what's upsetting him." She promised.

"Why don't you go and do that now?" Erik yawned. "I think these two are due a nap - I certainly am." He balanced his daughter on his lap and held out his arm for his son. Jean passed the boy over and left the room, using her telekinesis to ensure the door didn't slam.

It didn't take long to find Kurt. He was sat on Scott's lap, watching some of the alpha soldiers sparring with Raven. He waved his blue hands and his tail enthusiastically in greeting. 

Jean managed a faint smile and waved back, then leaned in to kiss Scott's cheek, ignoring the whistling from some of the alphas. 

"It's good to see you, Jean," Scott greeted her as she used her telekinesis to trip those who were muttering about her visit. "Is everything alright?"

"I thought I should take this little one back to his nanny," she explained, allowing her telepathy to sneak into the infant's mind. Kurt shook his head fast.

She saw the nanny glaring at Kurt for teleporting up onto a shelf, and then felt Kurt's fear as she called him a 'freak', raising a hand as if to strike him before he teleported to Raven. _She tried to hit him. She told him he was a freak._ Jean explained to Scott, as she ruffled Kurt's hair. 

The boy wriggled contentedly, and Jean managed a faint smile. "Raven?" she called over the general. "I need to talk to you."

***

"She was upsetting him," Jean explained to Erik the next time they were together. "Thank you for encouraging me to look into what was wrong."

"Thank you for doing it," Erik replied, glancing over to where his children slumbered, holding each other close and laying beside two rag dolls that were only a little smaller than the royal infants. "Not... not everyone here would have, I fear. It... feels like Westchester doesn't care for omegas, or children."

"We cherish them-"

"That's not the same," Erik interrupted. "Jean... Charles is a good man, and thanks to his permission I'm freer now than before. But I still- when you showed me around the castle, you told me not to go to the parapet alone. It- it feels like at times I'm a prisoner. It's... so much better than it was, but... at times it's still hard."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I just- I need things to do. I understand that I need to stay with these two while they're so small, and I want to. But... this is my kingdom, my people. I want to help."

"What do you care about?" Jean asked curiously. "We can find something appropriate-"

"Omegas," Erik said softly. "In Genosha, we were revered. But the attitude Cain showed... I can't believe he would be the only alpha who acts as though all omegas were placed on this land for him to do with as he wishes."

"He's not," Jean sighed. "But... there are laws. Charles brought some in, when he was first on the throne, with Logan as his regent. Before, there... was no limit on what an alpha could do within their home. But there are some protections now, laws, and those who go too far or kill their partner face justice."

"Kill?" Erik asked her wide-eyed. He took a moment, and nodded. "What can I do to help them? Other than tell Charles he will be bringing in better laws."

Jean laughed softly, but explained to Erik about the houses in the city that offered shelter to omegas who had to leave their partners. "Perhaps there is something there you can do?"

"I would like that." 

Their language lessons for the day were forgotten as she explained to him a little of the history of laws to protect omegas, and they worked out possibilities for new guidance that Erik could propose to Charles. When Jean returned to Scott that night she was tired, but satisfied that Erik was finally working out where he belonged in the Court.

***

The first edict to enhance the rights of pregnant individuals and those with children who were too young to walk was passed within a week. Logan laughed, telling Jean she'd taken a troublemaker under her wing, but he seemed proud.

Scott asked Jean to a meeting of the king's closest advisors where he drew up a few guidelines for the soldiers to ensure clarity on acceptable behaviour both in the field and outside of it. 

Logan asked her to read over it "'cos you're the smartest one in the room, Jeanie," and Scott nodded, looking over at Logan with fondness and more sparking in his mind. Jean didn't want to ask him about it, didn't want to upset him or accuse him of being unfaithful, but she was aware of how he felt. She knew her own feelings towards Logan were confused at best. He was handsome, and kind, and she was fond of him, but Scott was her world.

She talked Erik through the guidelines that afternoon, before they got onto practising reading. She was helping him work through a book of sonnets, explaining the meaning behind some of the phrases used and ensuring he could sound out the different words. He was growing more confident in the language by the day, although he mostly used Genoshan with his children. The two of them lay on the floor beside him, nestled in cloaks, under the watchful eye of Erik's pet cat.

"Erik," she asked softly when they had finished a poem and were discussing the meanings behind it. "Do... do you think it's possible to love two people?"

"I love my children and my husband."

"I mean..." Jean felt her face colour. "As lovers. Without the betrayal of one in your care for another?"

Erik turned wise eyes upon her. "I think you may already know. But yes, I believe so. One of my father's most trusted generals had two lovers, both alphas, and the three of them cared for each other deeply."

"Alphas?" Jean stared at him. "That... was known about?"

"It was permitted. I told you before, the generals could take lovers but not marry..."

"I mean..." Jean hesitated, dropping her voice so that the children would not be at risk of hearing. "I mean, for alphas to..." She struggled for an appropriate word. "To lie together..."

"Yes." Erik said, as though it were that simple, and he smiled at her. "I knew a few people who had more than one lover - it wasn't common, but it did happen, and I do not believe it meant they cared for those they loved any less." He reached out, and guided her into an embrace, and she clung to him.

"Thank you." 

She would speak to Scott.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has commented! It is wonderful and I really appreciate every one of you.


	8. Logan - Lover

Logan had never been the kind to get obsessed with the rules of decorum in Westchester's court. The way he saw it, if someone wanted to fuck, and you wanted to fuck them, that was fine and it didn't matter if they were married to someone else, or an alpha, or what. Course, he'd been around for way too many years to be bothered by things like his reputation. Everyone knew he swore and slept around, and that was the way he liked it. He was too damn good a soldier for Westchester to get rid of, and that made him feel confident in doing pretty much whatever - and whoever - he felt like.

He never got really close to anyone. It wasn't worth it - people died, hearts got broken, and he didn't want to deal with that mess again. He'd told himself dozens of times he wasn't going to get close.

Right now, he was pretty sure he was failing. He was meant to be Scott's friend, but the dreams he had about Cyke and his gorgeous wife were far from friendly - and fantasising about Jeanie was a potential death wish, given her adopted dad was the king and a telepath. 

Sometimes he was pretty sure Jeanie was flirting back. And sometimes Scott seemed to be as well, but the damn pretty boy was too straight-laced and too proper to even consider doing anything against what was expected. Logan wouldn't have been surprised to learn that Scott didn't have a clue what a prize he'd got with Jeanie - but no one who saw them together could doubt that they loved each other.

That was the thing that was fucked up about it, because if Jeanie hadn't been besotted with Scott, he woulda found a way to sleep with her. And if Cyke hadn't been smitten with Jeanie, he'd have been up for grabs. As it was, Logan felt pretty sure he was doomed to be their friend with a permanent case of regret.

It turned out that he was wrong.

He learned that the day after they left Westchester, he and Scott leading the force that was going to clear the path to the port to bring them into conflict with the Isle of the Sky. The hope was that a show of force would be sufficient to prevent an outbreak of war, but with the treaties having failed, it looked unlikely. He was pretty sure that the next dawn would bring battle, and given the number of gifted in their ranks, it was likely to be another long and drawn out conflict, and this time not one Jeanie could fix by getting the king a new consort. 

He hated the Genoshan leader, and all the fucked up mess the young man had been through, but he couldn't help but feel a faint pang of jealousy at the knowledge that there he could have at least made a pass at Jeanie without risking her reputation and his own.

He groaned slightly. There were plenty of soldiers he got along with, who he could have ended up in bed with for the night if he wanted to, but ever since he'd been spending time with Jeanie and her husband, he just hadn't been in the mood for some easy fun. He sighed to himself, pacing in his tent and mentally running through the list of gifted they had on this mission to ensure no filthy dreams he had would get reported back.

He settled down on the bed to get some sleep, and after a moment he became aware that there was someone outside his tent, pacing to and fro. He sniffed the air. Scott.

Scott always was damn fastidious about making sure he'd done all the patrols they were meant to, wanting to ensure they were safe. It was damn annoying at times - the man was handsome, smart, hardworking, and so quick to blame himself when stuff went to shit. Logan just wanted to grab him, give him a good shake, and then kiss him senseless until he forgot whatever he was beating himself up about this time.

Scott was still there, and he could hear whispered mutters, and he bit his lip in frustration, because after a long day he felt he at least deserved a few minutes peace so that he could relax and think about what he'd be doing to Jeanie given the chance - one of the plus points of being away from Westchester meant that neither the king nor Jeanie were at risk of hearing those thoughts.

But because Logan was a better friend than Scott deserved, he pushed down his libido and went to the tent flap, finding Scott pacing in a small circle practically in front of his tent.

"What?" He growled, and Scott jumped.

"Logan?" Scott asked after a moment, and Logan resisted the urge to growl.

"Scott, you're outside my damn tent. What's your problem?" There was no point in Scott looking surprised to see him - he knew damned well that this was Logan's tent.

"I wanted to talk to you," Scott muttered, and Logan got the distinct impression that behind those red glasses, Scott wasn't looking him in the eye.

"I'm here. Talk." Logan snarled slightly, and Scott shook his head, glancing around at the surrounding tents and dropping his voice to a whisper. 

"Could we talk inside?"

Logan grunted and stepped back to let Scott into his tent, trying to keep his attitude pleasant even if Scott was giving him a whole bunch of mixed signals. He stank of fear and want, and Logan knew that scent would linger long after Scott had left. He didn't see why Scott couldn't just be in his own tent right now.

"Well?" He asked Scott, who appeared to be immensely fascinated by the grass at his feet. "I'm here, you're here. Spill."

There was a pause, and he thought Scott might turn tail and run out of the tent. And then Scott stepped forwards, stopped in front of him, and now Logan was certain Scott was looking for him.

"Jean wants you," Scott admitted, and Logan glared because even if that felt like a dirty dream come true, he weren't gonna fuck things up for Jeanie.

"That ain't my fault, bub. I'm damn near irresistible," Logan snorted. There were a few ways he could see this going. What he expected, honestly, was that he was about to be punched in the face.

The one thing he definitely hadn't been expecting was for Scott to step closer, grab his wrists, and then bring his lips to Logan's own. The kiss was brief, unskilled and awkward, and after a moment Scott scrambled away, panting for breath as though he'd been hit.

"The fuck?" Logan managed, after a long moment. 

Scott turned away,clearly about to make a run for it, and Logan decided he'd put up with enough of this bullshit. He walked over, grabbed his wrist, and pulled, dragging Scott back over to him and towards the small bed he'd got set up. He sat down, glared at Scott and pointed at the space next to him.

A few moments passed in silence.

Scott sat down.

Logan cleared his throat, and looked at him.

Scott stayed quiet.

Logan stared.

Scott looked at the floor.

"You wanna tell me what that was about?" Logan asked after a few seconds.

Scott shrugged.

Logan took a deep breath and resisted the urge to stab Scott with his claws.

Scott turned to him, swallowed, and looked down. "Jean said it was alright," he said softly, his voice a little shaky from nerves. Logan wasn't surprised - Scott had always been the one to try and act properly, to follow every law. What he just did was illegal. Logan tried not to let his mind wander off at the idea of Jean and Scott discussing Scott kissing him, wondering if they'd been in bed at the time.

He raised an eyebrow at Scott, and the other General cleared his throat.

"She said that in Genosha, people sometimes take two lovers. And that she... she said I should talk to you. That she wouldn't mind, if something was to happen between us."

"This ain't funny, Cyke."

"It's not a joke." Scott smiled at him, a fragile broken thing. "She... if you wanted, you could join us in our bed, or... I mean, only if you wanted, but-"

Logan leaned over and shut Scott up with a sound kiss. After a few moments, he pulled away and gazed at him. "You sure about this?"

Scott nodded, then took a deep breath. "I don't want to do more than...." He dropped his voice to a whisper. "Kiss, while it’s just us. But... if you wanted..." He frowned. "You'd be gentle with her, right?"

Logan thought of Jeanie, of the fire that burned inside her, the heat of her gaze. He wondered at Scott treating her gentle, wondered if that could possibly be pleasurable for either of them. He was pretty sure they'd both been inexperienced before each other. He grinned, already thinking of the kind of stuff he'd be able to teach them, if they wanted to learn. "Yeah. I'll be gentle with her, Scott. But I dunno if she's gonna wanna be gentle with me."

An adorable look of confusion passed over Scott's face. Logan snorted and leaned in to kiss that frown away, straddling Scott so that he could kiss him deeper and ran his hands down Scott's strong arms, scarcely able to believe this wasn't some dream. But he could smell Scott, feel him close, and he kissed him breathless, pulling away with a faint smirk.

Scott looked across at him, flushed and panting for air.

"Yeah, I want this. Want you." Logan confirmed, and Scott's answering smile was brilliant, before he hesitated and glanced towards the flap of the tent. 

"I should go," he murmured. Logan leaned in and kissed him one final time, before he pulled away and let Scott get up. Scott looked a little embarrassed, but smiled at him.

"Night, Logan."

"Night, Scott." Logan watched him leave, a faint smirk on his lips, before collapsing back into bed, mind full of possibilities.

***

There were a few skirmishes over the next day. Neither side wanted to risk all out war, but equally they didn't want to back down. The goal was to reinforce Westchester's port, so Logan handled patrols and let Scott deal with the actual strategy of ensuring better defences.

It seemed to work. Scott was a tactician, and he seemed to enjoy the chance to think through a problem. It at least served as a distraction from whatever was happening between them. But that evening, Scott returned to Logan's tent. 

"What is it, Cyke?"

"I know we said we wouldn't do more than kiss. I- I don't want to, but... I wondered..." Scott stuttered slightly, clearly uncomfortable. Logan looked at him, unsympathetic, letting him work it out himself. Once again, Scott seemed to decide against words, stepping closer, and wrapping his arms around Logan. 

Logan snorted slightly, leaning his head against Scott's chest, and feeling Scott clutch him close. After a few moments, Scott spoke. 

"I often... sleep holding Lady Grey, I-"

"You're married. Please tell me you don't call her Lady Grey. I mean, unless she likes that."

"Jean," Scott corrected, looking a little flustered. "I sleep better with her close. I know I can't sleep in your tent but I thought... perhaps I could... perhaps we could..." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Cuddle?"

Logan rolled his eyes, but nodded and guided the younger man to his bed. He laid down and held out his arms.

Scott stared at him, and Logan realised after a moment why - he was used to _holding_ Jeanie, not being held by her. Just as Logan was wondering if he needed to offer an alternative, Scott moved, folding his lanky form down into Logan's arms, wriggling so that his back was pressed against Logan's front. Logan nuzzled his face into Scott's hair, inhaling the scent of him. He had no idea how the man had managed to keep smelling this clean on campaign. Scott turned in his arms, pressing his face against Logan's chest, and his glasses dug in a little. But Logan ignored that, rubbing strong fingers against Scott's back, feeling him slowly relax. He understood it had taken a lot of bravery for Scott to join him, even if he was being ridiculous about it.

"Have you done this before?" Scott whispered after a while, just as Logan thought he'd fallen asleep.

"Cuddled?"

Scott shook his head. "Been... with an alpha." He directed the question to Logan's shoulder, avoiding his eyes.

"Yeah." Logan took a deep breath. "Guessing you ain't?"

"I've... only been with Jean." Scott said softly. "I love her so much, I-"

"I know, Cyke. I know." Logan rubbed at Scott's back, and the man fell silent again, staying there for a few more minutes before he leaned up for a delicate kiss.

"I ain't gonna eat you," Logan muttered, deepening the kiss a little but trying to respect the fact Scott didn't want to go too far. He could wait, especially when his prize for good behaviour would be Scott and Jeanie together. 

It was Scott who broke the kiss, his head resting on Logan's shoulder as he caught his breath before he stood to check if his uniform was immaculate. Logan whistled in response.

"Goodnight, Logan," Scott said, back to the straight-backed leader he always tried to be.

"Night, Scott."

***

After one week of work, the port defences had been increased and the port itself was secured. Ororo and Raven arrived to take over the running of the troops, and Scott and Logan headed back to the Capital. Over the past week, Logan had gotten used to Scott clambering in beside him to 'cuddle', and Scott seemed to have lost some of his earlier fear.

Logan smirked as they rode together towards the city gates, far enough from the men who were returning that they could talk together.

"You want me to come 'cuddle' tonight, Scott? I bet I can cuddle Jean _real_ good."

Scott flushed, his face adopting the same shade of red as his glasses. "We need to talk, the three of us."

"That's okay, we can talk then find other uses for our mouths," Logan suggested and watched a look of confusion pass over Scott's face before he nodded. Logan was pretty sure Scott thought he meant kissing.

They arrived and Logan went to the stables to leave his horse, when he felt the King's presence in his mind. _Logan, I wish to speak to you in my chambers._ There was no hint there of patience, so he handed the horse over, then went to the King's study. Through an open door, he could see the Royal Consort playing with the twins. He bowed.  
"My Lord?"

"I think you know why you are here."

"I don't, my Lord," Logan answered, but even as he said it he cursed his own foolishness - he had been careful to ensure there were no telepaths or empaths near his tent. That didn't mean there weren't human or gifted spies, reporting back to the king that the husband of his ward had been spending hours in Logan's tent.

Charles stared at him, and he could feel Charles's telepathy in his mind.

 _If you hurt Jean, if you do anything to harm her honour, then you answer to me, do you understand?_ Charles demanded, at the same time as out loud he asked for a report.

Logan nodded, giving the report. _I mean her no harm._

 _Be sure you don't cause her harm, intentional or not._ Charles replied even as he feigned interest in the report. Logan understood - they were keeping this secret, because the alternative was to disgrace Scott as well as perhaps Jean.

 _We will be discreet,_ Logan promised. It wasn't a denial of the relationship that was occurring - the king would see through such a lie. But it was a promise that he would do all he could to stop Jean's reputation being tarnished.

Charles nodded and signalled for him to go. As Logan turned, a small kitten pounced on his shoe, trying to scramble up and bite at the leather.

"Logan, no," Charles muttered.

"I wasn't going to kick it-" Logan pointed out, lifting his foot and attempting to shake the kitten loose without causing it an injury.

"Not you. The cat."

Logan stared at Logan-the-cat and attempted to shoo her away with his claws. She purred loudly and licked at the claws, and Logan hid a smile.

"Good day, my Lord."

"Good day. Please do tell my daughter to be careful so as not to project her joy at her husband's return too loudly."

Logan bit back a laugh, nodded, and walked away. 

_What did he want?_ Jean asked telepathically. _Are we in trouble?_

_You aren't in trouble, Lady Grey, but I would like to talk to you face to face._

_This evening, then._ With that, her presence left his mind.

Since the first stage of the fight against the Isle of the Sky had gone well, the evening was filled with celebratory feasting and even some dancing. Logan kept a watchful eye on his alphan soldiers, ready to deal with anyone who got out of hand. He was quite clear with his men that he would not let them step out of line.

But they were mostly tired after a long week, and as darkness fell several of them returned to their families or to their barracks. The king sat with Logan to his left and the Royal Consort to his right, and then Jean beside him and Scott beside her. 

Logan knew that this was the best he could hope for. That Jeanie and Scott would always love each other, be utterly devoted. He wasn't sure if he was being invited fully into that, or just as a tool, but either way he doubted he'd ever share what they had.

 _We want you._ Jean's mind whispered in his own, and a thrill of pleasure shot through him. He tried to focus on the meal and didn't look up when the Lord and Lady Grey excused themselves to rest.

They had left the hall before Jean's mind brushed his. _You know where our rooms are, Logan._

He shivered and stared down at his plate and tried to focus, before going to check in on his men. Only then, when he was sure all was well, did he excuse himself from the hall.

He felt pretty damned awkward making his way to Scott and Jean's bedchambers. It was one thing, whatever it was he and Scott had shared on campaign. But that was easy to dismiss - he'd known plenty of alphas who fucked during wartime. This was different. This was him entering a married couple's bed, and he felt more unsure in himself than he had for a long time.

The door to their chambers opened as he approached, and he walked inside, reminding himself that Jean and Scott were both too goddamned good to be doing this as some kind of joke. They were both genuine. They'd invited him because they wanted him, and he wasn't sure right now if it was just for fun or for something more, but he wasn't gonna find out if he didn't get on with it.

He walked in, and the door closed behind him.

He reminded himself that Chuck had changed the old laws - that if they got caught at least Scott wouldn't be executed (and he wouldn't have to find out what they'd do when they couldn't kill him). This was illegal, but he didn't give a shit about that. 

The first room was empty, and he made his way through to the bedroom, half-expecting to find some scene out of a fantasy sprawled across the bed.

Instead, Jean was sitting on Scott's lap, the two of them in a chair. Jean had a beautiful, finely woven robe wrapped around her, made of silks imported from Madripoor. It was a mixture of reds and golds, setting off her porcelain skin and flame hair. Scott, meanwhile, was still wearing his dress-uniform, a smart red sash at his waist that matched Jean's robe. Scott's hands rested chastely against Jean's, and Jean blushed, moving to hide her face against Scott's shoulder for a moment, before she looked up and met Logan's eyes. 

"Thank you for coming here," she said softly, ever the diplomat. She glanced up at Logan, and at a spare chair, before she took a deep breath. "Would... would you like to sit on the bed with us?" she asked, sliding from Scott's lap and walking the short distance over to their bed. She perched elegantly on the edge of it, Scott sitting to her left and once again holding her hand.

Logan walked over and sat down on Jeanie's other side.

Silence fell between them for a few moments.

"'m guessing you know about what happened," Logan said, trying to sound as casual about it all as he possibly could.

"I do," Jean agreed, and one of her hands slipped away from Scott's to hold his. Logan linked his fingers with her own, wondering at the smoothness of her skin. She looked him in the eyes. "I know you like us, Logan." She said it with the casual arrogance of all telepaths, those who could read anyone's deepest thoughts with but a glance.

"There's a lot about you to like, Jeanie. And Scott ain't bad neither."

Her answering smile looked real, and she squeezed his hand a little tighter. He wondered if she was just as nervous about this as he was - maybe worse. After all, of the three of them, she was the one whose reputation would be permanently tarnished if news of this meeting were to escape the room.

She leaned against him, her curtain of soft hair brushing against his arm. After a moment she sat up, but her scent lingered, and he could smell fiery desire that matched the hope in her eyes.

"Erik... Erik says that in Genosha, it's not unknown of for people to take more than one lover... Not the chieftain's mate, but others. Equals. He... he said that feeling that way isn't something wrong with... any of the people involved. I hope that doesn't upset you." She blushed slightly and then seemed to rally herself. 

She leaned forwards, and kissed him, and her lips were just as soft as they had always looked. _We both want you here, Logan. Scott told me you held him... would you like to hold me, as we sleep? Or perhaps we can hold you..._ She kept up the kiss, and Logan smiled a little at the growing confidence he could feel from her, now she had realised he wouldn't push her away.

 _I want to be here,_ he reassured her, then reached up to run his hands across her shoulders, feeling her delicate frame beneath the exquisite fabric. _I want you. Both of you._ He pulled away reluctantly, knowing he wanted to do it right. In his view, if Jean was too shy to say what she wanted out loud, that probably meant they shouldn't be doing it.

"You aren't upsetting me, Jeanie. I'm glad to be here, but I've got to know what you actually want..."

"You," Jean said shyly. "We like you. And I... I want to kiss you, and... and cuddle with you..." Her skin flared a stunning red. "And... and you can lie with me, if you wish." She swallowed, her gaze darting to her husband, and he saw uncertainty there.

"What is it?" Logan asked, concerned.

Scott leaned over and squeezed Jean's hand, and she took a steadying breath before she spoke. 

"Scott doesn't... doesn't knot me. It hurt, a lot, when we... when we did that." She gazed at Logan's chest, eyes downcast. "But... if it would make you happy, then sometimes... we can sometimes."

"Jeanie?" Logan lifted her chin up with a careful hand. "I don't wanna hurt you. I want to make you feel good..." He kissed her briefly, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "What do you like?"

Jean shrugged, and Logan leaned in for another soft kiss, slowly deepening it until Jean was left gasping.

"You can tell me, Jeanie. What's your favourite, what does Scott do that makes you scream?"

His answer came in the form of equally confused expressions on husband and wife.

"He doesn't hurt me," Jean insisted, and Logan stared at her, and then at Scott, and realised that he might have overestimated their knowledge. As a female beta, Jean would have been sheltered, and he knew Scott had never been one to participate in lewd jokes and the like. He considered for a moment, then tried a different approach.

"I don't mean pained screams. I mean.... I mean enjoyment screams. The kind that the King's new bride has been doing and giving half the guard a headache."

Jean ducked her head, embarrassed, and Logan kissed her forehead, then turned to Scott. 

"You both asked me in here. You want to explain what you thought we could do?"

Scott swallowed, but stumbled through an explanation of what sounded like the single most boring night Logan had been a part of, even with three people involved. Some kissing and cuddling, which he was very on board with, and then either Logan fucking Jean while Scott held her close, or Logan and Scott touching each other while Jean lay between them.

Scott looked like he might combust by the time he'd stumbled through the explanation, and Logan stared at them, wondering why they were even asking him if they were this hesitant.

"Because we really like you, Logan," Jean said softly, looking up at him with tears in her eyes. "And I'm sorry we're not... I'm sorry if what we have to offer isn't enough for you."

"Jeanie..." Logan sighed, lifting her and moving her onto his lap so that he could rest her head on his shoulder. "You two are more than enough for me. I just want to make you both feel good. And... okay, sure, we might be starting from a different point than I thought, but that's okay. We're gonna have fun, and we'll take it slow, promise." He kissed her deeply, then held his hand out to Scott, guiding him closer. Scott nuzzled into his side, and Logan gazed at them and smiled. They'd asked him here because they cared, not for fun, but because they wanted him there. They were both risking their reputations because they felt something for him that Logan suspected was dangerously close to love, the same as he felt for them.

"You can make Jean feel good?" Scott asked, and now there was concern, almost upset, on his features. Logan felt regret that Scott’s glasses meant he couldn’t look him in the eye.

"Yeah, I can show you."

"I thought..." Scott started, and shook his head, shame playing across his face.

"I was always told that you weren't meant to... to enjoy intimacy," Jean said softly. "That... omegas and beta women shouldn't..."

"Jeanie, beta women shouldn't invite alphas they're not married to into their bed." Logan grinned at her, and her answering smile made his heart soar. There was such vitality and vibrancy inside Jean, and he couldn't wait to unlock it.

Scott though still looked hurt. He reached out to squeeze Jean's knee. "I'm sorry I didn't do better, before."

Jean leaned in to kiss him, and Logan rubbed a hand up Scott's back. 

"Scott, when you started fighting, you were pretty shit at it. You learned, and now you're one of the best. You can learn this too." He squeezed his shoulder, and Scott managed a nervous nod.

Logan looked between them and smirked. "And trust me, I'm gonna have fun teaching you." 

Jean shyly reached for the fastenings of Logan's tunic, as Scott leaned in for another kiss, his hands reaching up to guide Jean's robe over her shoulders, exposing the smooth pale skin beneath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please do comment if you've enjoyed this, it means so much to me!


	9. Jean - Confidante

Jean had never given that much thought to the actual mechanics of what inviting Logan to their bed would involve. She had been too afraid of the potential pain, and at best she'd pictured a continuation of what she shared with Scott: gentle kisses as he found his pleasure in her body, holding her close and making sure she felt safe and warm and loved, and knowing that was enough - that that was more than enough, because it was Scott, and Scott meant more to her than fleeting pleasure.

She had never pictured this. Logan's eager mouth mapping her chest, leaving her gasping, head thrown back against the pillow, two of his fingers pressing inside her as Scott kissed her deeply. Scott broke the kiss as Logan reached out and guided him back a little. 

"Gonna teach you something new, Jeanie. You're gonna wanna watch this Cyke..." And with that, Logan leaned up to kiss her, his fingers slipping from her as he licked his way down her body. Scott moved back a little to watch, although he kept one comforting hand on her thigh. She gripped his fingers as Logan's tongue brushed between her thighs.

Jean wasn't quite sure where on his travels Logan had picked up this particular trick with his mouth, but whoever taught him she owed her a deep debt. Scott, of course, wasn't to be left behind and proved to be a very eager pupil, learning the skill with the same earnest determination he applied to everything else, leaving her breathless, clutching his hand tighter.

"That's it, Jeanie," Logan murmured. "She's beautiful, isn't she Cyke?"

Scott hummed an answer, and Jean shivered in bliss. For the first time in a decade, she lost control of her telekinesis, sending a book skidding off a table and slamming it into Logan's thigh. Logan smirked, and she was sure he was going to be unbearably smug about that particular event for the next week, even if the bruise was gone before Jean had managed to catch her breath and apologise.

Scott looked up at the commotion, concern obvious on his face. "Jean, are you alright?"

She nodded, still catching her breath, and tried to pull Scott closer. He obliged, sliding up her body and kissing her shyly. She kissed him back, tasting herself on his lips, and rocked her hips against him.

"Hey, Cyke..." Logan smirked, leaning in and whispering to Scott, and she felt his mind nudge hers, asking permission. She nodded, letting him enter her, and then Scott turned them over, so she was gazing down at him. He looked beautiful there. Logan's hand on her hip guided her.

Once Scott had found completion, and she'd experienced another soaring wave of pleasure, she collapsed forwards against her husband, trembling in his arms, and Scott pulled a blanket up over her hips to keep out the chill of the night air. After a moment, she turned to Logan.

"What do you...what should we...?" She blushed, looking away, embarrassed that they'd both seen her like that.

Logan leaned in and kissed her tenderly. "You don't gotta do nothing, Jeanie. That was beautiful. I'll go clean up in the washroom, then I can go."

Scott shook his head, and Jean met Logan's eyes. 

"We want you to stay," she told him softly. "If... if you would?"

Logan nodded and headed out of sight, before he returned to slip into bed beside them, leaving her curled up between the two of them. She leaned up to kiss each of them, and then tried to hide a yawn. Two strong sets of arms wrapped around her, and she felt safe and secure, falling to sleep cocooned in the warm embrace of her husband and their lover.

***

The next day, she woke early, soft warmth flooding through her. Scott was already awake and reading, while Logan snored beside her. She hid a smirk and leaned in to embrace her husband tenderly. 

"Charles told me to let you know Erik wanted to see you after breakfast," Scott relayed, and Jean knew then that Charles must have been aware of what had happened. Guilt twisted inside of her, but she tried to push it down. She cared about both of these men, and they clearly cared about her as well. Erik was right. They had all wanted this. It wasn't bad.

She made herself get up, washing and dressing and heading to fetch some food. 

When she knocked on the King's door, Charles let her inside, looking at her gently. 

"If he hurts you, Jean, let me know and I will make him pay."

"I understand," she promised. Charles stood aside, and she made her way into the room, where Erik was sitting in bed, the two infants cuddled against his chest. He looked up at her and smiled knowingly, addressing her teasingly in Genoshan.

"You spoke to Logan?"

"So obvious?"

"Charles has been worrying himself silly all night, despite my best attempts to distract him. And you look happier than I've seen you in a while. It went well?"

Blushing, Jean nodded.

Erik laughed, leaning in and embracing her fondly. "Congratulations."

Her answering smile was soft. "It... it was good, thank you."

"You did so well." Erik smiled at her. "You have fun?"

"I don't want to talk about it." Jean said firmly, trying to set out expectations. But she found herself smiling slightly. "Yes, I did."

Erik grinned at her, and she prodded him in the arm. "Come on, I'm meant to be teaching you."

The lessons went well that day, and in the evening she returned to find Logan waiting in hers and Scott's bed. She smiled down at them, sending a wave of fondness towards them both. "Good day?"

Scott nodded, and Logan grouched about the new recruits, and everything felt familiar, but she knew Logan was no longer a friend but a lover, and as a lover he had a right to certain respect. She cleared her throat.

"What is it, Jeanie?"

"I use my telepathy on Scott." It felt frightening, saying something so taboo out loud, but after the previous night she knew she could trust Logan with even that intimate a secret. "I will obviously hold myself back from doing the same to you if you wish but-"

"You want to be in my mind, Jeanie?" Logan asked, looking up at her. "Because it ain't always a good place to be, but you're welcome there."

She nodded, slipping into his mind, and leaned forwards to kiss him. As she settled in his arms, she could taste his pleasure . _You going to teach us something new today?_

Logan laughed, his hand running down his spine. "I've created a monster."

***

Logan didn't join them in bed every night, but he did so as often as he thought he could without risking being caught. Jean realised Scott seemed to sleep better with the other alpha there, and she was thrilled to see how Scott seemed more comfortable. She'd never minded their physical relationship, but thanks to Logan the evenings where they were intimate became remarkable.

Eventually, she had to leave them to handle a temporary peace treaty with the Isle of the Sky. She wished her husband, her lover and her friend goodbye and headed off, amazed by how well the twins were already progressing, little Peter crawling around the room at an amazing rate, while Wanda showed the first signs of budding telekinesis.

When she was almost due to return, she headed to a market, spending a while walking between the stalls and considering what she could purchase. She carefully selected a matching pair of dolls, wooden and dressed in the traditional outfits of the Isle of the Sky, wrapping them in a cloak to ensure they got home safely and she could gift them to the little twins. She chose a carved whetstone for Logan, a golden cup for Scott, and small carved stone animals for the other generals, their partners and their children. She chose a book for Charles.

She spent a long time walking the market, trying to find something for Erik. All the traditional gifts for an omega didn't suit him, but she was sure there had to be something, she just had to find it.

As the sun was going down, she realised what it was that Erik wanted - what he had asked her for during that first week there, when she had left him and dismissed his request with a laugh. She made her way to the blacksmiths to select a knife.

There were other knives far more beautiful than the one she chose, ones with gems along their hilts and engraving on the blade. But she got him a knife that would be practical, one which would be strong, one which was sharp and horn-handled and sheathed in an embroidered leather case. It was a warrior's knife, because that was what Erik deserved.

Once the ink was dry on the treatise, she thanked her hosts, took the gifts they proffered and presented her own, then rode back to Westchester. As she approached the city, she reached out with her mind. It was Scott's which she found first, and she tugged gently. _Nearly home._

 _We're waiting,_ Scott replied, and the sheer hope in his mind spurred her onwards.

She greeted the king and his family first, presenting Charles with his book and the children with their dolls. In her absence, Peter had taken his first shaky steps, and Wanda had discovered a way she could speed around the room whilst seated, almost fast enough to catch up with her brother. Once Charles left, Jean embraced Erik, and he hugged her.

"You should go to your husband," he told her gently. "Alex says he's been pining for you."

"I need to give you your gift first," she answered, pulling the knife from her pocket and watching Erik's expression. The King’s Consort unsheathed the knife, gazing at it in surprise and hope and wonder, turning it over and over in his hands as though he could barely believe what he was seeing. Then, he slipped it back into its scabbard and nodded.

"Thank you. Now I'll be ready if anyone were to attack us. I'll keep my family safe."

"Charles told me that you once took out two guards and stole a horse," she teased, fondness shining in her eyes. "I don't doubt that you'll do well."

He leaned in and embraced her, and when he stepped back she slipped away to where Scott was waiting.

***

Time passed. The skirmishes with the Isle of the Sky settled into an uneasy peace as both countries prepared for winter. The second anniversary of Charles and Erik's wedding was a day of feasting and laughter. Scott broke his arm in training, and only Hank's skill prevented him from losing it, leaving him having to take a few months off from training - time he devoted to helping young Kurt gain greater control of his powers. The twins turned four, their birthday celebrated as they sat wriggling in their coronets, and Wanda took to following Jean around the castle like a duckling.

Through it all, Logan stayed a part of their life. Jean loved her husband more than anything, but she loved Logan just as much, and she knew Scott felt the same, and that Logan cherished them both. 

Erik was fluent in Westchesterian now, and his children spoke both tongues easily, giggling and learning quickly that it was only their 'Papa' that they should speak to in Genoshan. Him and Jean, and Jean couldn't help being a little flattered at her inclusion in this. Erik's attitude towards his children was different, but it warmed her heart to see her friend so happy as he cuddled his infants close.

Jean grew fond of Wanda especially, as the girl got older. She was clever, and her difficulties with her gift reminded Jean of her own childhood. Although Jean could never see herself as being particularly talented with an infant, she knew that there were wetnurses who could help her. 

One day, she seated herself down with Erik, needing to speak to him before she raised her idea with her menfolk. He looked at her and smiled as his children sprawled at his feet, playing with their little ragdolls.  
"Something wrong?"

"I need to talk to you," she answered in Genoshan, and he nodded, leaning in and resting his hands against hers.

"What is it, Jean?"

"I'm wondering about... having a child." She whispered it, because this was the first time she'd spoken such a thing out loud. "But I'm afraid if I do, I'll be unable to work, and I-"

"I won't let that happen," Erik told her firmly. "And Charles and I have been speaking about trying for another child soon. I can look after two infants as easily as one. You can work, and if you need help I am there for you. As are Logan and Scott. You know they cherish you."

Slowly, she nodded and smiled up at him. "I'm scared."

"You don't have to do it alone," Erik promised her, and she leaned against him for a moment. He squeezed her hand, and she gathered her strength, going to talk to Scott, and calling Logan with her telepathy.

When the three of them were together in the rooms that were officially hers and Scott's, she looked up at her husband, kissing him softly, and sat down on Logan's lap, prodding away Logan's hand when it ran up her chest.

"I think we should try for a child," she announced. Her alphas gazed at her wide eyed in shock, and she took a moment to breathe before she continued. "I'm going to stop taking my herbs, and that means I should be able to fall pregnant. I don't... I don't want to have more than one child. But I know... I know we can do this. I'm going to need your help at first."

"You've got our help." Logan muttered, his hand resting reverently on her stomach. "Both of us, Jeanie. Whoever you want the father to be. We're here for you."

Scott nodded, and she leaned in to kiss him, taking a shaky breath. Scott gazed down at her, love shining in his eyes. "Who do you want to be the father, Jean?"

Jean swallowed. She'd given it thought - this thought of having a child with them had preoccupied her for a while, before she'd decided to go through with it. She'd thought about powers, about respectability, about expectations. She loved both of them equally, with all her heart.

She looked between them, and managed a weak smile. "Shall we let fate decide?"

Logan's arms tightened around her, and Scott kissed her, and she didn't think she'd ever felt happier or more loved.

***

Knowing that the child might be Logan's, might be illegitimate, felt different when she was aware that her plan had succeeded, that there was an infant growing inside of her. Even before she knew for certain she was pregnant, Scott was overly attentive, encouraging her to not work so hard, to relax and rest and leave worrying about diplomacy to someone who wasn't growing a tiny life within them. 

On the day she was certain, Scott seemed even more concerned, fussing about her, gently kissing her stomach, smiling down at them. "Our beautiful little one..." he murmured, and she nodded, even as unease bubbled beneath her skin. It was when he suggested she give up her daily hour spent with Erik, teaching him culture and poetry and simply ensuring he didn't feel alone, that she started to cry. 

Scott awkwardly excused himself from the room, and she felt like she was a naughty child as she slipped away from their rooms, heading to the king's chambers where Erik and his children would be playing. She let herself in, and immediately Peter ran to her, hugging her tightly. 

"What's wrong?" the boy asked her, his brilliant eyes sparkling.

"Nothing," she promised, sniffling, and a moment later the boy was pulling Erik out from where he had been sitting on the bed with a book. Erik paused only to drop the book beneath the bed, and then approached her, holding out his arms. 

"Jean?"

"I'm pregnant..." she whispered.

"Isn't that happy news?" Erik asked, shooing the children away and holding her close.

"It should be, but if... if it's not Scott's..." Jean stared at the floor, feeling afraid and stupid and far too young to be handling _this_. She had thought she would be fine, but now she wasn't so sure. "What if he hates them? I can't raise a child on my own, Erik. I just couldn't."

Erik's hand squeezed her shoulder, and the consort smiled. "It's going to be alright, Jean." He was speaking in Westchesterian, and Jean found that comforting in a way. In her heart, she knew that Charles would never banish her from the court, but she couldn't stop being concerned what might happen if her child was illegitimate. "Here, let me show you something." He walked over to the bed and pulled out a book from beneath it. "Come and see."

Jean approached, and he opened it to show her pages full of ink drawings. There were people she recognised - Charles dozing, or on his throne, the twins at play, Jean herself - and as he flicked further back, many she didn't. He paused on a page that just showed a cluster of children's faces, and those of two adults, all smiling brightly, names written above each in Genoshan script. 

"My siblings and parents." Erik spoke Genoshan now. He stroked his fingers across the page, then turned to show her more - images of life in Genosha, a horse, the older couple laughing, and the same children, both young and as adults. He pointed out one of them. "See? This girl, Ruth, she was my older sister. A beta, the best shot with bow and arrow of all of us. Look at her eyes." He pointed, and Jean could see there was something strange in the shape of them, the pupils narrow slits, like the cats which roamed the castle.

He leafed back through, displaying a handful of other images for her. He lingered on one where there were children playing. Then he turned a page, and showed her some adults she didn't know, scarred with hints of battle. One of them had the same strange cat-like eyes. "These are my father's generals." He returned to the drawing of all the children's faces. "And these are my father's children. His because my mother bore them. His because he loved them. It will be alright."

Jean looked up into Erik's eyes and wondered if she could believe his simple truth.

"Thank you," she whispered, and his arms wrapped around her shoulders to pull her closer. She curled up against him, gazing down at the book and the love with which he had rendered every image within. "I'm scared. Scott... Scott's worried that teaching you will be too tiring for me, but I... I can't face just waiting... I need something-" She blinked back tears, sickened at the thought of lying helpless in bed with nothing to do for months on end, cut off from the court and the work she loved.

Erik shushed her, gently wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pressing his lips to her hair. "I'll get Charles to insist I'm given lessons. We'll be alright. Charles and I... we're hopeful we will have our own good news soon. But whatever happens, I'll make sure you can still see me. Look... look at me, Jean." He tilted her head up so she was staring into his eyes. "I'm going to make it alright."

Slowly, she nodded and let a fragile smile settle on her lips. "Thank you."

Erik cradled her, until she felt calmer, and then smiled. "I'll talk to Scott. But I promise you, he will love you and his child."

She looked up at him, and tried to trust that he knew what he was saying.

"I will make sure you have things to do," Erik answered. "I can teach you to spar, and we can go riding, and-"

"I just want to read and be able to keep up with my letters, and meet with informants. A little riding perhaps. I might not spar for now..." she laughed, and he gazed at her, brushing her hair behind her ear.

"I'll make it okay, Jean. I promise." 

She was startled to realise she believed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the comments! I've added a little destique ficlet to this series. If you enjoy, please do comment :) thank you!


	10. Erik - Protector

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for a mention of past violence towards children, and a non-graphic birth scene.

Erik smiled to himself, his hand resting against his stomach where his child grew. The past few months had been different from the first time he had found himself pregnant within Westchester - Charles was now an ever-present companion in his mind, and his days were full - he rode, and sparred, and made sure to spend time with Jean.

Jean was not by any means a natural mother, but she was trying her best, and she obviously took a great deal of comfort from Erik's support. It was support he was eager to provide - Jean had been a good friend to him in the five years since he had first set foot on Westchester's soil, and he was not going to forget her kindness. 

The first thing he had done, when she was sure she was with child, was to go and speak to Scott, and set out exactly what he expected - that Jean would be permitted to continue with the work that meant so much to her, with the constant reassurance of Scott's support. There would be no complaints from Scott about her working too hard, or exhausting herself by straining to pick up a pen.

It still seemed ludicrous to him, the things these Westchesterians believed, how fragile they thought those who were pregnant were. But he could not stand for it. Not from a culture which was comfortable permitting violence within a marriage, yet refused to believe an omega would be strong enough to read. 

Charles had been changing things.

Erik changed them faster.

He and Kitty and a handful of other servants Jean trusted helped her keep up with her correspondence. He fashioned her a beautiful rattle for the newborn, made of different types of metal, and an intricately balanced mobile to rest above the baby's crib. His own child grew within him, and he knew that the child would enter the world a few weeks after Jean's own - he still hoped for twins, or more, but he no longer feared disgrace if only one child was within him.

As Jean grew later within the pregnancy, Erik would often sit with her, her head on his shoulder and the twins playing nearby. He would tell her stories he remembered from childhood, of mythical beasts and fantastic warriors, and she would listen and sometimes show him images from the tales he described.

It was one afternoon, during a conversation, when she whimpered and curled up in pain.

"Jean?"

"It hurts..." She looked up at him, fear in her eyes, and he reached out for her hand, rubbing her back and shushing her softly.

"Do you think it's the baby?" he asked, and she nodded in return.

"Do I lie down?"

"In Genosha we...we said to walk around, if you can. Peter, darling, get Auntie Jean some water. Wanda, can you get Scott?"

"She can't!" Jean said, a look of horror on her face. "He can't... he can't see me like this."

"Do you want Logan?" Erik asked carefully.

Jean shook her head again, tearful.

"Charles?" Erik tried, and Jean stared at him and shook her head. 

"An alpha... an alpha can't see me like this..." She grabbed for his hand. "Please don't leave me."

"I won't leave you." Erik promised, reaching out for Charles telepathically. _Jean's baby's coming. She's in our rooms._

 _I'll get Hank._ Charles replied, sounding a little concerned himself.

"Wanda, darling, can you go to the kitchens and get some nice sweets? You know what Jean's favourites are, don't you?"

"Yes, Papa!" The little girl hurried off, full of her own importance. Peter returned carrying a jug of water, and Erik poured a little for Jean, holding it to her lips. 

"You're doing great."

"Is it meant to feel like this?" Jean whispered nervously. "It... it hurts. What if there's something wrong?"

"There's nothing wrong," Erik reassured her. "People've been doing this forever. Peter, go get Hank."

"And you'll stay?" Jean asked, and she sounded terrified. 

He pulled her closer. "I'll stay, Jean. Of course I'll stay. I'm going to be right here beside you, the whole time."

She looked up at him and nodded, taking a few deep breaths, trying to look calm, and Erik's heart ached for her because it was obvious she was scared out of her wits and still being strong. "If something happens to me-"

"I'll look after the child," Erik promised. "But we're going to get you through this, okay? You and me, we're going to be fine."

Jean took a deep breath and tried to smile, mumbling thanks when Wanda returned with some sweets. Erik handed her one, putting a few into a pocket just as Hank bustled into the room, followed by Peter.

"Lady Grey, follow me." With that, Hank walked out again.

"I'm coming with her," Erik spoke calmly, relying on his position as the Royal Consort to prevent any argument. "Peter, Wanda, I want you to go and look after Uncle Scott for me, can you do that?"

"Yes Papa," the children chorused, and Erik let Jean lean on him, following Hank to a room which had been prepared for the birthing.

The room reminded Erik of nothing so much as some kind of torture chamber - a cold metal bed, a floor that was easy to rinse, and various objects around that he didn't want to look at too closely. Hank guided Jean up onto the bed, and various individuals began to prod and poke her.

She caught his eye, and he could see she was on the verge of breaking down in tears. He walked to stand beside her, holding her hand and shushing her softly. "It's alright, I'm here," he murmured, before turning to Hank who was busy muttering to himself and jotting down notes.

Erik cleared his throat, glaring at Hank.

"Yes, your majesty?"

"Talk to her about what you are doing."

"It won't help her-" Hank began to protest, then fell silent at the force of Erik's glare. He took a moment, but he nodded, coming to stand by Jean's head and setting out what was happening. Her hand stayed tightly clasping Erik's own.

 _Jean, are you alright?_ He asked her telepathically. Normally, that was a boundary the two of them wouldn't cross, but he knew mind-speak was calming for telepaths, and he was here. He wanted to help her.

She nodded shakily, and he stroked her hair out of her face, humming softly to her to try and distract her from the pain.

Given Westchester's view of those who could carry children as fragile, they certainly didn't make birth easy. He was used to it being something which took place surrounded by those you loved, with singing and laughter and worship. Westchester seemed to view birth as something shameful, something dirty, fit only for doctors, with the one bringing a child into the world little more than a vessel.

"How are you feeling, Jean?" Erik asked, and she smiled up at him and shook her head.

"Tired," she whispered. "Tired and... and scared... Thank you for sending the twins to Scott. I can feel his... he's worried, and they're helping."

"It's alright," he promised, guiding her to drink a little more water, biting back a snarl when yet another medical attendant began to examine the progress of the child and made Jean sob softly. "It's okay, Jean. I'm here."

Hank came back, explaining the progress of the child into the world by using simple numbers. Jean screamed herself hoarse, sobbing in his arms, as Erik stayed close, ready to take care of her.

Hank looked up at him in concern. "Your majesty, given your own condition, is it a good idea for you to be here?"

Erik did snarl that time. He didn't care if people spoke of him as wild, not if the alternative was walking away and leaving Jean here alone. Her hand tightened on his, soft words of gratitude spilling from her lips.

The hours dragged by, and Jean kept going, strong despite her pain and fear, and eventually, in the early hours of the morning, her daughter entered the world. Before Jean could even see her, she was taken to be cleaned, leaving Jean sobbing on the bed. Hank looked down at her.   
"Congratulations - she is an alpha."

Only the baby's cries served as a reassurance that she was well. Jean whimpered, and Erik held her, stroking her hair. When the child was returned and placed into Jean's arms, he was the one to talk her through how to give the child her first meal.

Jean stared down at the tiny bundle in her arms, so small and fragile and full of hope, and then looked up at Erik. He gazed down at her, sweat dampened and exhausted, and felt pride.

"You did it," Erik told her, and she nodded tiredly.

"I want Scott," she whispered, gazing at her child. "And... I need to get ready, to meet everyone, the King will want to see, and... and his advisors..." She shivered a little, and Erik ached for her, because he was sure at that moment she just wanted to curl up safely and sleep, with Scott on one side and Logan on the other. But that wasn't fitting. Her best chance of seeing her lover was by enduring being presented to the Court, despite the fact that she was clearly exhausted.

"We will inform the King and Lord Grey," Hank told her, more kindly than he had spoken before. "Your Majesty, if I have some of the servants help clean and dress the two of them, would you be willing to accompany them to the hall? I can call for some of the Royal guard to escort you, and the Lady Grey can make use of a wheeled chair, but... I believe that you have been of great comfort to her during this process, and I feel she would benefit from you remaining beside her."

"I will stay." Erik said simply, stroking Jean's hair as servants cleaned her and dressed her, wrapping her newborn in red silk to match the robe she was wearing. Jean looked half-asleep, her eyes heavy with exhaustion, and she looked up at Erik.

"I can sleep soon?" she murmured, and he nodded.

"You could rest after seeing Scott and Charles?" he offered. 

She shook her head. _I have to let Logan see the child as well._

Erik found it strange, the way Jean insisted the child was both Scott and Logan's. In his own culture, his own world, it had always been the husband who was the father - questions of parentage mattered little for himself and his siblings, because each of them had been born by his mother, and so they were his father's. They grew up with the generals as aunts and uncles, as friends and advisors and supporters, but their parentage was never up for any kind of questioning.

It was different for Jean though, and he tried to respect that. If she wanted Logan present, and the only way that would be permitted would be going through the rigmarole of being introduced to the Court, then he would support her every step of the way.

She yawned, clearly exhausted, and gazed down at her little one. 

"She's beautiful," Erik told her, and Jean nodded. 

Erik considered for a moment. "I can talk to Charles for a while. Explain things I'd like different about... about births. Give you and Scott some time alone - you're exhausted, let him take care of her so you can rest."

Jean nodded up at him, gratitude shining in her eyes, and it hurt him that she was clearly so very much in need of even a brief moment's rest. Eventually, she was considered presentable, and Hank helped her into a wheeled chair, positioned the child in her lap, and let Alex and Darwin escort her to a suitable chamber. She looked down at her newborn daughter and smiled.

"Thank you, Erik," she said softly. "I couldn't have done this without you."

"You would never have had to," he promised her.

Erik guided her into a comfortable chair beside her bed, passing her the newborn, and ran his fingers fondly over the baby's scalp. The infant frowned up at him as Jean rocked her carefully.

"What do you think?"

"Too early to tell," Erik lied. He was sure he could see the outline of Logan's jaw, of the fierceness of his eyes, but he didn't want to say that, not yet. And anyway, other people wouldn't even be considering the possibility that the child was Logan's. That would help.

Jean smiled at him, exhaustion obvious in her eyes. "I am a telepath."

"Your husband will be here soon," Erik informed her, and she nodded, smiling tiredly as Scott knocked on the door. She raised one shaking hand, opening it, and he was at her side in an instant, kissing her forehead and then reaching down to take hold of the baby girl. 

"She's perfect." Scott breathed, worship shining in his eyes as he stared at his tiny daughter. "Thank you."

Jean smiled up at him tiredly, and Erik breathed a silent sigh of relief. There was no question now about whether Scott would reject the child.

"She's got your nose," Scott told Jean, cradling the infant. Erik smiled at the two of them. 

"I need to speak to the King. He will be with you shortly." With that, Erik left the room, giving Jean and Scott a few precious moments together before the rigmarole of presenting their child to the court would begin. 

Charles walked over and smiled, resting a hand against Erik's own stomach heavy with their child. "I hear you gave poor Hank quite a headache."

"He deserved it," Erik grouched, leaning in for a kiss. "Jean's exhausted. And it... I didn't like how they did things here. It was different... I know the twins were sudden. But it all felt very cold and stressful for poor Jean. I know you've spoken before of some omegas struggling with their minds after the ordeal of childbirth... I can't imagine that this helps."

"Perhaps not," Charles conceded. _We shall bring our next child into the world however you wish, my darling. And I will listen to whatever you have to say. I cannot promise all your ideas will be followed - Hank has had a remarkable success in increasing the survival rate of both parent and child. I would not like to lose that._

"Of course not," Erik agreed, tired himself by the effort involved in caring for Jean through the birth. "She did well."

"I'm glad," Charles said carefully, then frowned. "Scott says that we can go in now, if we wish."

Erik followed Charles back into the chamber, smiling to see Jean there, her eyes almost closed with sleep as Scott stood holding the little one. 

"Does she have a name?" Charles asked.

"Laura," Jean said after a moment. "It means victory. A strong name for my tiny fighter." 

Scott nodded, staring down at the baby in his arms. "Our little Laura." 

Erik wasn't a telepath, but he could feel the love pouring off the other man, and he was certain that even if the child wasn't his by blood, she was in every way that mattered. Charles approached, holding out his arms for the child, who was almost his grand-daughter. Scott passed her over, and Charles smiled. "Scott, you'll care for her?"

"Until my dying breath," Scott swore, and Charles seemed to take a moment to examine his mind, finding no hint of falsehood. 

"Good. Erik, dear, do you wish to gather the other generals?"

"Logan is waiting nearby with the children."

"Well, I suppose as he's there we should allow him in while we track down wherever Storm and Raven have got to," Charles said, and swept from the room. Erik followed, catching a glimpse of the sheer relief on Jean's face.

Once he stepped outside, Erik found himself ambushed by his two children, both of them bouncing up and down. 

"Papa can we see her?" Wanda asked.

"Please? Please please please please?" Pietro bounced from foot to foot.

Logan, standing a little further back and trying not to be bothered by the death-glare Charles was directing his way, shrugged. "Your kids seem excited."

"Auntie Jean is very sleepy right now. So we're just going to let the king's advisors meet her, and then she can have a nap, and in the afternoon the child will be shown to the Court." 

"But Papa-"

"No, Wanda. She needs a rest." Erik went to pick up his daughter, and was stopped by Charles's expression, a sharp glare at the thought of Erik lifting her this late in his pregnancy. He still hated the idea of rest, but he could see that Jean was exhausted, and being paraded in front of the Court and noisy children was the last thing she needed. "And I need a rest as well. Later, okay?"

"Before the Court?" Pietro wheedled. 

"Before the Court," Charles compromised. "Come on, you two. You kept Scott from worrying, didn't you?"

"Yes father," Wanda nodded. "We did, and uncle Logan gave him a hug as well."

"That's good." Charles sighed, and turned to Erik. "I suppose we'd best call the other two and give her a couple of hours peace."

Erik nodded, leaning in and kissing Charles on the cheek. _Thank you._

 _It's alright._ Charles replied. Erik knew his husband was still not happy with Jean's relationship with Logan, but it was clear it made her happy, and that was what mattered to him. 

"Go and get some rest, darling. You did well, now you can relax... do you want me to wake you when Jean presents Laura to the court?"

"Please." Erik nodded, squeezed the King's hand and then returned to his rooms.

Erik hated Westchester's idea of resting, the fact they seemed to assume that carrying a child made you weak and helpless. But he did have to admit it was strangely reassuring to be able to relax for a little while, after helping little Laura into the world. He was exhausted. The twins were tired too, having stayed up far too late distracting Scott and Logan both.

He woke up to the presence of Charles's mind against his own, with his little boy curled up against his stomach and Wanda sprawled across his legs. _Charles?_ he thought sleepily.

_Jean's ready, she wants the twins to meet her baby._

_Thank you._ Erik stretched awake, gently prodding each of his children into wakefulness and kissing their foreheads before he wrestled them into formal clothing. "You have to be nice to Jean, alright? Even if she's a little grumpy, she's just had a baby and that's really hard work. So we have to be nice to her and make a fuss of her."

"Yes, Papa!" the children chorused, Peter already at the door, bouncing up and down with excitement at the thought of meeting his new... Erik frowned for a moment. If Charles was Jean's guardian, that made her child Charles's grandchild, and therefore Peter's niece. _Congratulations on being a grandfather, Charles,_ Erik teased, and was answered by the sensation of Charles poking him in the ribs.

"Be gentle with the baby, alright? She's only little."

"Logan said we can play with her and teach her to fight!" Peter protested, and Erik smiled.

"You can, just not yet. There'll be time, don't worry."

"Okay, Papa." Wanda reached for his hand, and Erik tugged Peter closer by a bracelet, leading them through to Jean's rooms. He knocked on the door, and Scott opened them, Peter zipping through. By the time Erik entered the room, Peter had sat on the edge of Jean's bed, gazing down at the baby that was sprawled on the sheets. Jean was once again sat in her wheeled chair, making sure her hair looked perfect and that she was in a fit state to be presented to the Court.

"You look radiant, Jean," Scott said gently, scooping Laura up and sitting on the bed so that the children could look.

"I have to look perfect," Jean answered, and Erik could see the pain in her eyes. "If I show any weakness, people will use it as proof that I'm not capable as a diplomat now I have a child."

"I won't allow that, and nor will Charles," Erik interrupted, his voice firm. Jean's answering smile was painfully thin, and he wondered how much rest she had gotten. 

Scott pressed a kiss to his daughter's forehead, settling her on Jean's lap. Wanda and Peter both patted the baby's blankets, and Erik smiled.

"I thought maybe I could babysit at some point? I want these two to get some experience at dealing with a baby and thought you might want an evening off."

"Thank you," Jean whispered, pure gratitude shining in her eyes. Scott pressed a kiss to her cheek, and the small group went to be presented to the Court.

As the child was the infant of one of the generals and of one of the chief diplomats of Westchester, there were a large number of courtiers who wished to meet her and pay their respects. Jean bore it all with remarkable fortitude, smiling politely and answering questions about how Laura was doing, bracing herself against the almost infantile tone some adopted towards her. 

"It's alright, I know how to dress her," she said firmly to one of the older women, as though she wasn't the woman who had single-handedly brokered the lasting peace between Westchester and Genosha. Erik's heart ached for her, and he knew he would soon have to undergo the same ordeal, but he was sure they could endure it. He stayed nearby while Charles spoke a little further off, and everyone got to say their piece. It almost went smoothly, and when everything went wrong - well, Erik would insist that it was Kelly's fault, not his own.

Kelly, one of the nobles who had been in power since Charles's father held the throne, stepped forward, examining the child with cursory interest. "You said it's an alpha?" He addressed Scott, and Erik could see the flicker of irritation on Jean's face at not being worthy of being asked herself.

"She is," Scott answered, his hand squeezing Jean's shoulder. It looked for a moment like that would be enough, but Kelly then turned to Erik, an unpleasant look on his face. "You must be delighted it's an alpha, your _majesty_." Kelly, like several of the Court, always had a way of pronouncing Erik's title as though it was an insult.

"I am happy the child is healthy." Erik replied through clenched teeth, hand protectively over his own bump. Then Kelly stepped closer, glancing down at Peter and Wanda. Peter had wriggled off his chair and onto the floor, stacking buttons he'd fished out of his pocket, whilst Wanda was sitting neatly, but with a pebble floating on her lap. As Erik watched, the pebble blinked out of existence. 

"I mean, it's acceptable for these children to run riot around the castle, they're omegas. But if you are carrying a proper heir, you'll need a-" the sentence finished with a phrase Erik hadn't encountered before, but one that made Scott look furious and Jean go pale with fear, curling up a little around her infant daughter.

"What did he say?" Erik asked, slipping into Genoshan, because he needed to understand what was happening. 

Jean took a deep breath, staring down at her child, and answered in the same tongue. "A whipping girl..." She cradled her daughter close, shushing her softly when Laura began to cry.

"What?"

"An alphan prince or princess..." Jean hesitated, clearly struggling to put the words together, and Erik wasn't surprised because it felt like they had sat there for hours. "An alphan royal child can't be disciplined themselves," she explained under her breath in Genoshan. "So rather than do that, the aim is that if they cause a problem, they have a friend who is beaten in their stead, to teach them... The friend is traditionally an alpha child."

Erik felt a wave of violent nausea sweep through him. "You mean he suggests we beat Laura if my child misbehaves?"

"Yes." Jean answered hollowly, and in her arms Laura was getting restless, howling as though she knew they were discussing causing her pain. "Not until they're about the twins age, old enough to know consequences, but-" 

Erik looked at the pain on Jean's face, the distress his own children were showing at Laura's tears, and the angry impotent rage Scott’s whole posture was expressing. "Would you let it happen?"

"The King and yourself could have us executed or banished. If you insisted... I'd beg you not to, but I couldn't stop you," Jean answered, and the sheer helplessness in her eyes drove Erik to act. He reached out with his powers, pushing Kelly back from the children, and stood up.

 _Charles?_ His words were tainted with anger. _I need to know. Would you have Laura beaten because of our child's mistakes?_

He felt Charles searching his mind, until he realised what was wrong. As Charles returned to his side, he could see that his husband was angry as well. He looked at Erik and shook his head, and Erik felt strength swell inside him, driven by his desire to protect his child and Laura both. 

"There will be no need to beat the Lady Grey's child for our infant's mistakes." His words were in Westchesterian now, and he kept his grasp on Kelly's belt buckle, the nails in his shoes and rings on his fingers. "That will not happen. This child will be safe. Anyone who harms a child in such a way will answer to me, personally." With that he pulled Kelly forwards again by the metal. "Apologise to her."

"I am sorry, Lady Grey," Kelly said, his voice shaky.

"No." Erik glared at him. "Apologise to Laura."

The courtier glanced at Charles, who wrapped a soothing arm around Erik's waist.

"You heard him," Charles said simply, and Kelly stared but turned to the tiny babe.

"I am sorry, Maid Grey." Kelly spoke clearly, glancing at Erik, and Erik wondered if he was thinking of all the stories of Genoshans being wild and violent. He certainly felt wild at that moment, knowing what the Court would have allowed to happen to the little girl before him.

Erik nodded, turning to Jean who was still trying to quiet the little child. "Is that sufficient?"

Jean nodded, and Erik turned to Charles. "I think that's enough for today, don't you?"

"I agree," Charles answered, and Scott helped Jean from the room. The two of them headed with their daughter towards privacy as the courtiers trooped out. 

Logan alone approached, resting his hand on Erik's shoulder and squeezing gently. "Thanks for looking out for her."

"I couldn't not." Erik shrugged. "It's awful..." 

Logan nodded, and walked away after a glance to Charles.

"You knew?"

"I'd said it wouldn't happen, but Kelly is old, he didn't listen," Charles said softly. 

"You... this practice, is it... common?" Erik asked, for the first time understanding the sheer terror and disgust Jean showed whenever he mentioned the Genoshan chieftains' mating ceremony.

"Not since my childhood," Charles answered softly. "I've told you before that Raven was like a sister to me." His words were accompanied by a memory, a man Erik recognised as Charles's stepfather advancing, and then Charles shuddered. Erik gathered his husband close, and brushed the tears from his eyes.

"We can make sure it does not happen again," Erik told him firmly. "I shall forbid it."

Charles nodded, leaning to rest his head on Erik's shoulder, and Erik held him close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for all of your support! If you are enjoying please do comment, it means a lot


	11. Jean - Daughter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Warning for a minor injury to a small child)

After the scene Erik had caused when their infant had been presented to the Court, Jean was grateful to Scott for ushering her away, back to her rooms. She stared at the tiny child in her arms and felt overwhelming relief that the little girl would be spared future pain.

She wasn't sure she was going to be a good mother. She certainly didn't seem to have the same all-consuming love Scott had, or Erik felt for his own children. She'd seen Erik sit for hours, almost hypnotised by the smallest act of his twin children, and she wasn't sure that she would ever be able to feel that interested. But she loved this little girl, and she wanted to protect her and keep her safe. She pressed a kiss to Laura's tiny forehead and let Scott help her into bed, settling to feed their daughter.

"Are you alright?" Scott asked.

Jean nodded, looking at him. "Just tired. You?"

"I'm good," Scott answered, staring down at the little girl. "Just... amazed. At both of you."

"Both of us?" Jean asked softly, her telepathy brushing his mind.

"Of course. My little girl, the child of my wife and my lover... she is the single most perfect being to ever exist, with her mother a very close second," Scott answered, and she was leaning up to kiss him, as Logan knocked on the door to their rooms.

Jean smiled to see him again. The three of them had shared a few precious moments earlier while the other generals were tracked down, but this was their time, just their little family, able to forget about the outside world and the cruelty of it.

"That bastard Kelly," Logan snarled, walking over to sit down beside Jean and guide her head onto his shoulder as Laura continued to feed in her arms.

"We'll change the law," Jean promised, leaning against him. "We won't let anyone hurt her. Or any child in her situation. It's not right."

"I thought that the Consort might skin him alive," Scott said, and for once it wasn't awkwardness in his voice as he spoke of the Consort, but admiration.

"I think he considered it," Jean admitted, gazing down at her daughter. She was already planning out how laws would need to change in order to keep Laura as safe as was possible, to ensure no harm could come to a child simply because of their status or rank. She was thinking of other children too, those born without the protection of wealth and noble blood. They deserved a good life as well.

"Poor brat," Logan muttered, leaning in to get a closer look at Laura's face as she finished feeding. Jean pushed him away slightly so that she could do up the fastenings of her tunic.

"Hmm?"

"She's got my scowl, poor kid," Logan laughed, but his expression grew serious. "Jeanie... if you two need me to give you some space, to make sure no one thinks you cheated with me-"

"It's fine," Scott said firmly. "Laura is my daughter. And I will keep her safe. As for her expression..." He reached down, holding his hand up in front of her face, making the tiny child gurgle in excited confusion. The thoughts emanating from her were so loud they almost hurt. Jean had to concentrate to pull herself back into her own mind. 

"Hmm?"

"I said as for the expression, we'll have to make sure she laughs. No one's seen Logan laugh, so that'll keep her safe." Scott grinned and leaned in to kiss Logan in front of Jean, and Jean allowed herself to smile.

"You can relax now, darling," Scott offered, taking little Laura into his arms. "I'll take her for a walk, and Logan can curl up beside you and you can rest."

"Thank you..." Jean breathed a sigh of relief. She loved her daughter, but the thought of resting, at least for a little while, was wonderful. She could feel the contentedness of Scott's mind as he held their babe, and then she let Logan cuddle up beside her, one arm protectively over her waist.

"So proud of you, Jeanie," Logan muttered into her ear. "We're gonna support you, every step."

She knew that was true, and that knowledge soothed her into sleep.

***

Nina Xavier, alphan heir to Westchester's throne, entered the world just as Laura turned six weeks old. Logan had been proved right - Laura smiled brightly at everyone, and so far no one had challenged her parentage. Jean had helped Erik through presenting his newest child to court, and now the two of them had settled together in the Royal nursery, Erik nursing his daughter. Scott sat on the floor a short distance away, deep in conversation with Laura as he dangled a piece of string above her head.

"What _is_ your husband doing?"

"Hank says that playing with her like this will encourage her to develop. Logan's set up a bar to go above her crib with toys hanging from it, but Scott's..." Jean looked over at her husband fondly. "Scott is easily entertained."

"As long as at least one of them is having fun," Erik agreed.

"You're such a clever girl Laura, aren't you?" Scott asked his daughter, cooing down at her. "So smart, the best-" His ramblings were interrupted by a sudden foul word, and a sharp burst of pain from Laura's mind.

"Scott?" Jean asked, stumbling from the bed as Laura began to howl in pain. Jean rushed to her daughter's side, as Scott lifted her into his arms.

"What is it?" Erik asked from the bed, and Jean felt the door lock. Scott carried Laura to the bed, settling her down, and reached for a jug of water and a cloth that Erik had to clean himself after feeding Nina.

Jean watched as Scott lifted Laura's left hand, revealing the back of it was streaked with blood. He wiped at the skin, but there was no injury there.

"How did she-?" Jean asked, but Scott concentrated and showed her - Laura reaching for the string, tiny fingers wriggling with excitement, and then two small bone claws breaking through, before she started to sob in pain.

Jean reached for her daughter, rocking her to soothe her, and after a few moments her whimpers gave way to soft sniffles.

"What's wrong?" Erik asked.

"She's got claws," Jean murmured, stroking her daughter's hair, holding her against her chest. "It's okay, Laura. It's okay." 

After a few more sniffles, Laura drifted into sleep. Jean gazed down at her, then looked up at Scott nervously.

"What do we say?"

"You say that it happens." Erik said firmly. "I've known other mutants - one of Shaw's generals has claws as well. It's a mutation that occurs in different people, and unless you're going to tell me Logan is related to one of Shaw's men then it's just... what happens. And the claws probably mean she would need a healing factor." Erik squeezed Jean's arm. "You're going to be alright."

Jean nodded, staring down at her little girl. "We'll make this alright."

"We will." Erik considered. "I knew a few children with physical mutations when I was little. I'm sure if Logan and I talk we can find something that will help with her claws, and as she gets older she'll learn to control them."

Jean managed a smile, leaning against Scott. "You don't regret that she's his?"

"My love..." Scott crouched down to look at her through his glasses and smiled. "If she had been mine by birth, then I could very easily have lost a hand, and this room could have lost its roof. Claws are less of a problem than my eyes."

"I love your eyes," Jean answered, leaning in to kiss him softly.

"I love you." Scott stroked a strand of hair from her face. "And I love our daughter."

Jean allowed herself to relax a little. Nina and Laura were both asleep for a little while, and Erik looked tired as well. She embraced him for a moment, then stood up. "Goodnight, Erik."

She had plans in place to ensure her daughter grew up in a better world than she had been born into. But that was something she could handle in the future. For today, she just wanted to keep her daughter close and block out her worries about what was to come. 

Scott walked with her and placed Laura in her cot, then cuddled close, and Jean smiled. No matter what came next, she knew that she would be dealing with it with her husband at her side, and that helped more than she could say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who comments, it means so much to me :)


	12. Charles - Family

When Charles had first met Lady Grey, he had paid her little attention, seeing her as nothing more than one more babe among the children of the Court. It was only later, as her power manifested and she turned to him for help that he began to consider her as someone he cared about, and only after the loss of her parents that she became his child.

It was different for Raven - he had very few kind things to say about his monster of a stepfather. But the beggar girl he had chosen to be Charles's companion, despite the cruelty behind it - he had chosen the first real friend Charles had ever had, the motivation he needed to end Marko and forge his own path. He knew Raven felt the same - that was why her son carried that monster's name, because even from cruelty he had gifted them both a strength they never would have had alone.

Erik, his beautiful darling Erik, took his breath away even after seven years of marriage, with their youngest daughter curled up on his lap and Jean's daughter alongside her. Erik looked at him and smiled, and Charles felt himself relax. This was his favourite place to be, surrounded by his family - his son playing on the floor with Scott and Logan-the-Cat, while Wanda scribbled seriously in a notebook beside Jean, gazing up at her with admiration and trying hard to go through the motions of the Court. They were here together, having a relaxing evening to celebrate Jean's birthday, and he was glad that everyone was here together. Jean had asked for this - after a few weeks spent trying to deal with a trade dispute with Madripoor, she simply wanted an opportunity to take a night off, even if she was still busy writing down correspondence and the like.

Charles's attention drifted to the others in the room - Logan, watching them all with feigned disinterest, and Irene with Marie tucked against her side, and Kurt murmuring to Storm, his tail flicking from side to side. Marie was almost ten now, and Kurt was eight, and the two of them served to be some much needed good influence on the twins. He was fairly sure that hoping Laura would be a good influence was doomed to failure.

Charles didn't really understand what had happened between Jean and the two generals, but he knew it brought her a happiness he had never expected to see. Her relationships weren't something he was happy about but they meant the world to her, and he was grateful that she had them.

Laura began to fuss a little, waving her hands in front of Nina, and Nina reached up, grabbing for the soft fabric gloves that had been put over Laura’s wrists so that she could cuddle with Nina without being at risk of injuring her with her claws. Erik shushed them both, smiling over at Wanda and Jean, floating a piece of metal above Nina as a distraction. Charles gazed at all of his children, and his family, and he felt at home.

Charles could feel the joy radiating off of Erik, as he looked around. _Everything good?_ he asked, his mind nudging Erik's own. 

_Perfect._ Erik replied, and he opened his mind to Charles, letting him see the memory he was thinking about. He remembered being small, young, sat at his mother's knee as she ran a comb through his hair. There were a few other children his age about, his father wrestling playfully with Ruth and a couple of others. They were in a large tent, and a few of the generals wandered in and out to talk and play with the children, and there were other kids there - not Erik's brothers or sisters, but friends or cousins or the children of soldiers or servants. A big messy family, chaotic and full of love. _When I first came to Westchester... everything felt wrong. It was so cold - not just the weather, but all of the land. The formality, the rules and politeness and the weight of expectation...._ Erik reached out, squeezing Charles's hand, and gazedg around the room. _But this? This feels like home._

Charles leaned in and kissed him, gazing at the family he had dreamed of and never thought he would have. Erik was right. This was home, and he would fight for those around him, make sure they were safe. His children, all of them, would grow up in a world better than he had known. He was sure of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to specficslut for letting me play in this wonderful universe. Thank you to InsertSthMeaningful for betaing, and to everyone who has commented. This has been such a joy to share.

**Author's Note:**

> If you've enjoyed this, please comment. I'll be updating on Mondays and Fridays.


End file.
